


Devil's Chessboard

by 1nonlyminah



Category: B.A.P, Monsta X (Band), iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Apathy, Blood, Crime, Death, Drugs, F/M, Gangs, Guns, Killing, Murder, Pain, Rape/Non-con Elements, References to Depression, Violence, mafia, psychopaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2020-08-19 06:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20204947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1nonlyminah/pseuds/1nonlyminah
Summary: A cold, reckless girl on the night streets of Seoul, dealing with a bunch of troublesome fuckboys, encounters a mysterious, tough-looking guy named Hanbin, and as luck would have it, gets involved in what seems a dangerous situation. The guy, claiming a mafia boss is trying to collect his debt, is forced to put her under supervision following her around, only to make himself look more and more suspicious of what is he involved into. With both of them hiding their own secrets, what fate will await the two at the end of this bloody game they fell into?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely readers!  

> 
> It’s my first attempt at writing a fanfiction with such a plot rather than a one-shot, so please go easy on me.  

> 
> I’m leaving here a few short notes to read before you go to the real thing:  
• The first 2 chapters focus more on the side story of the main OC (Minah) to give a wider picture of the situation.  
• Hanbin appears in chapter 2, and more things start happening from chapter 3 on.  
• The plot will develop slowly.  
• With the development of the story also the trigger level of the content will grow (mature content, violence, blood, murder, drug abuse, depression, rape mentions, etc).  
• The side story of the OC introduced in chapters 1 and 2 was inspired by true events. No idols were involved. The main story line is completely fictional.  

> 
> Let’s start! I hope you'll enjoy it.  


She is leaving again following our so-called friend Junhoe out in a hurry, stumbling on her legs and bubbling non-senses as he is pulling at her hand leading her through the crowded, too noisy suljib. They are most likely heading to the stairs and nobody would blame them for their decision. The stairs of the five-floor building in fact, are certainly a better place to have a talk or hide from people’s eyes as they are tucked away behind doors located next to the bathroom’s ones - on the third floor, the bathroom is situated in the corridor instead of being directly inside the drinking place, - and to add up, why would someone bother to walk their way up when there is a perfectly working elevator right in front of the entrance? Seesaw and here I am, sitting in front of Junhoe’s self-proclaimed playboy friend Donghyuk without any idea how to keep up a conversation with him on my own.  
In fact, Junhoe warned us before his friend joined. “Before being a playboy, he is my friend,” were his words. “I don’t want to lose him because of any of you.” He ordered me to stay away from Donghyuk at any cost, spicing it up with death threats but apparently, he forgot to take into account that what I hate the most in the world is being ordered around by some irrelevant human being. He specifically told me to never give him my number or ask for his, but he never said he will leave me alone with him, setting up a perfect stage for me to disobey to his selfish rules, nor much less he cared to consider that by forbidding me to take the candy, it is exactly what I will do the moment he looks away.  
Junhoe is not someone I especially like or value or respect as a person and I have more than enough reasons to justify those feelings. To name one, since the very day me and Yunah met him, our friendship has only started to spiral downwards with no end in sight. He invented some sort of non-existing love triangle between the three of us, constantly trying to tangle us in his pitiful web of lies, manipulating us with his depression and bringing up fights to break the already fragile friendship me and Yunah have been struggling to keep intact for the past few months. All this, only to feed his selfish need to be the center of everything. Therefore, he also did not mind reflecting on all the grudges and resentment I hold against him that will eventually press down on the wrong nerve and cause a bursting.  
It is not like I am an angel, like I have done nothing wrong. I do count my own faults at the end of the day, but it is easy to self-justify your wronging when all you keep on being served is your own blood in a soju glass. And maybe even more than me, Yunah holds her own wrongdoings, too starting with the exact same promises at the dawn of each night. “I won’t leave you alone, I promise. We’re staying together and going home together,” she repeats every time and I pretend to believe her over-chewed words. And this all holds high chances of leading to a situation in which my mind will soon be entering a drunken state and act out on its selfish instinct to make them taste a drop of their own blood, too.  
As I gaze at the table at the half eaten donkkaseu, counting the empty soju bottles, something suddenly pops in my thoughts. Donghyuk is not only a self-proclaimed playboy, but also a self-proclaimed pro of mixing somaek. “Donghyukie,” I try to sound cute, “should we drink some somaek while we wait for them?”  
He studies my face for a moment, then relaxes his expression at the sight of my innocent smile. “Alright, I will mix you the best somaek of your life,” he smiles with a sinister sparkle in his eye and orders another bottle of soju and of beer.  
As soon as the bottles are brought to the table, I make the next move.“Donghyukie, can I sit next to you? It’s too noisy to talk like this.”  
He hesitates again for a second, then recollects himself and smiles, “of course, noona! Come!” As I change my seat, a sudden shift of the situation occurs, where to my urge of disobeying an order adds up a thrill of a new challenge to kill time: can I play a playboy without being played in the process?  
He pours the perfect proportion of soju and beer in our glasses, then using the chopsticks, makes sure the two liquids are mixed well. He serves it in front of me, “here, one shot.” The sound of two glasses touching gets lost inside the bar’s noise and from this moment on, everything becomes easy as with the right starting words, the situation begins to develop smoothly on its own. The slightly dim atmosphere of the suljib is accompanied by the drunken voices melting into the sound of Sunmi’s Siren.  
If there is one thing I am unbeatable good at, is adapting my personality depending on the person I have in front of me. It is a great skill that allows you to get out of a person as much as benefit as it would be considered a normal measure for the given situation. Even though it might be a trait my closest friends have always been complaining about, the reality is that I cannot change it.  
It occurs spontaneously. I know too much about too many topics and it is almost impossible to catch me unprepared or unable to join a conversation naturally accustoming to the theme. I like learning on my own, I do not limit myself to a certain field, but what makes the difference is the vast spectrum of people I got the chance to meet, each one of them handing me information about various subjects of their interest. And all of this, at some point, became part of me. I am also notably good at observing people and get a quick but efficient analysis of their behavior, their preferences, their likes, their dislikes and their flaws, then act in accordance with it. It is useless to mention I have dealt with many human cases in my life. This, too, makes the transition from one personality to another very natural and you will be having a hard time finding an average individual being able to see through the disguise. And to all that, try adding the ability of faking interest and you will succeed in making yourself very likable to most eyes.  
I continue to talk about my travels around Europe’s most admired cities, from Paris to Milan, coming up with new details to make it more appealing, which seems to be a topic of his liking. “I’m so jealous,” he sighs. “Take me there when you go back, will you?” They say men are just big kids, and now I can easily catch a glimpse of the childness reflecting in the self-proclaimed playboy’s eyes. How can a kid be such a heartbreaker?  
I have been always wondering why some enter the world of players at such a young age, as soon as a chance appears and walks up to them. Do they have a specific reason - a trauma from their childhood, a toxic relationship, a complex from a Freud’s book - or is it pure curiosity, a first try that escalates to a habit for that high feeling of power and control, or for the sake of a reputation perhaps?  
No point in asking myself any further questions, as with my mind starting to slip in a pleasant haze, we continue to drink and carefreely chatting, not even noticing the clock ticking away the minutes in a speed of light. “Can I have your Kakao?” Donghyuk asks suddenly.  
Junhoe’s warning crosses my mind and I need a moment to reflect on whether I should lie or tell the truth. “Sure, but we have to keep it a secret from Junhoe.” I catch of glimpse of confusion in his expression, so I decide on a whim to reveal a bit more of the situation. “He said to keep my distance from you and banned me from exchanging numbers. Ah, this guy’s jealousy goes beyond the sky limit.” An almost unperceivable smile escapes my lips as he hands me his phone, regardless of what I just told him. Obviously, one can only be happy about the discovery of another competitor when the prize is already falling in one’s hands.  
I admit that at some point in my life I got into playing boys, tricking them into paying and doing me favors, then disappearing with a colorful palette of lies to get away when it gets time for the payment I owe. If I add the pain of being tricked by people I once truly considered my friends to the already rooted belief that all guys only want to get in a girl’s pants, dating back to the time when I was still too young and too foolish, and everything my eyes have seen in the shadows, the outcome is not surprising. I recall a so-called oppa; the very one who did nothing but help me out whenever I needed a hand in this big city of Seoul and not even once showed a minimal suspicion, until the very night I ended up drunk with him and his friends at a shop opening party in Hongdae. I run through my memories and lastly, another self-evident reason pops in my head, bearing the name of Junhoe.  
“No problem,” Donghyuk says as I return him the phone. “Let’s drink to our little secret,” he winks and as soon as we finish the shot, Junhoe and Yunah return to our table.  
The first thing I notice is Yunah’s annoyance with whatever happened between the two of them. The second thing I observe is Junhoe’s clear frustration over me changing my seat while he was gone. “I need to talk to you.” He does not even mind to sit down and goes straight for grabbing my hand and pulling me up to my feet. His friend throws me a questioning look, well aware he should not be too apparent about us getting closer in the past half of an hour or so.  
Yunah just gives me a warning sight as Junhoe, leaving me no choice, proceeds on dragging me through the tables out on the corridor and straight to the famous stairs. I already know Donghyuk is going to hit on Yunah during my absence, not that I particularly care, but I also know she will not show a minimum interest and instead scan the place with her eyes in search for a hot guy, skillfully leaving for some strangers’ table as soon as she spots her target and cause who knows what kind of troubles again.  
The air temperature on the stairs is perceivably some degrees lower. “I want to discuss with you the same thing I discussed with Yunah.” His expression switches from frustrated to serious and that exact seriousness forecasts that only bullshit is about to come out of his mouth.  
I cross my arms on my chest. “Enlighten me with your bright idea,” I say, not even bothering to cover my itchy urge of punching him.  
“I think we should meet separately from now on,” he starts off and I already know in which direction this is going. “You and me, and Yunah and me separately. I think your jealousy problem could be solved that way.” Here he goes again with his firm conviction that the whole world revolves around him and I have to try hard to contain my laughter. “I think I should sleep with both of you equally to make it fair.”  
My eyes widen and despite my slight dizziness, I have no idea what to think nor less how to react at the impact of what I just had the honor to hear, but after taking into account the bigger picture of the situation evolving in front of my eyes, I cannot help myself but burst out into sudden laughter. A mentally sane person would not even find the courage to suggest such a solution. “Let’s talk again after you get proper consultation,” I reply as the tears brought up by the outpouring laughter are still visible in the corner of my eyes. It only gets better and better with every face-to-face encounter we have. “I bet Yunah told you pretty much the same thing, so this conversation is over.” I turn around to leave when he grabs me by the shoulders and forces me against the wall.  
His ego is hurt, and desperation slowly takes the place of anger for not being taken seriously. “Then tell me what am I supposed to do? I’ve been trying hard to find a way to solve this problem.” He is so predictable in his game that I am not even surprised at his sudden move of pulling out the card of victimism in defense to a double rejection and I am way too fed up with it to even consider his words.  
I stay calm as I, gradually through time, grew bulletproof to his baseless offenses. “You are the only problem here. Did you ever consider removing yourself? That would solve it.” No reaction follows as I quickly turn on my hills and push the heavy door to find myself back on the corridor.  
He follows me in silence and a glimpse with the corner of my eye reveals me his hurtful expression. I regret my words for half a second, but the afterimages flashing through my mind like washed-off memories, remind me it is only the less he deserves.


	2. Chapter 2

Back inside, the situation is the same as we left it, with the only difference of Junhoe seating me across the table, as far from Donghyuk as the spot allows. Clearly being mad at me for his own selfish reasons, he keeps his focus on Yunah, ignoring me the whole time and leaving me exchanging sights with his friend.  
“Minah, let’s go to the bathroom,” Yunah pulls at my arm and I am grateful for her move as I did not have the chance to talk to her yet. And so I learn that Junhoe did not go so easy on her as on me, trying to convince her to take her to a motel and send me home. As she kept refusing, he started to run out of patience and after the victimism was not the winning card, he began to persuade her in what he also proposed to me.  
Needless to say, we are both breaking our backs in the process of trying to get rid of him, but as a persistent dirty stain, he is not going to vanish no matter how hard you try to rub it off. Not to mention his sudden appearance at every damn drinking place me and Yunah are trying to enjoy ourselves with the effort of fixing our relationship and stay inside the limits we should stop crossing. As a following shadow, he manages to find us each time, damaging the mood and taking things down the road to ruin. But the fact that Yunah will ghost me right away when the alcohol will be too much for her to handle herself, and answer Junhoe’s stupid wishes in the process, is making me keep my guard up in regard of every single one of them three. At the table, in fact, every one of us is still betting on the power of wearing a mask.  
The chatter takes a natural flow and we alleviate the tension by playing drinking games with the caps of soju bottles. My annoyance at the occurrence from the stairs adds up to all the repressed anger, making the childish revenge plot seem more and more attractive with every shot of alcohol entering my blood system. And a text on Kakao sent unnotably under the table, gives me the hint how to best deal with the position. And with best, I intend my kind of best.  
_Donghyuk: Ya! What happened?___  
_Minah: He’s full of bullshit___  
_Donghyuk: Hah. Wanna go for a smoke?_  
_Minah: Sure, meet me at the stairs___  
I excuse myself to the bathroom and the moment I stand up I lose my balance but manage to catch myself from falling with the help of the table. As I start walking, also my vision decides to play tricks on me with its blurriness eating at my sight. The alcohol started to take its toll on me. Just how much did I drink? After a minute or two of waiting, Donghyuk approaches me and we head down to the street for him to smoke a cigarette. I do not smoke and neither I am particularly fond of it, but I must say there is something attractive in the way the gray cloud escapes a guy’s lips. I dig through my old memories to recall the bitter taste of American Spirit and Jack Daniel’s on my tongue, and a familiar feeling arises to the surface. It makes me wonder when it did get the best of me and when did a piece of the old me come back.  
Outside the air is chilly and the street still wet from the evening rain. As we touch the topic of what happened, I tactically prolong the time before going back inside to wait for the right moment when Junhoe, suspecting me, will come sniffing his nose around to make sure I am not misbehaving. Donghyuk and I both agree to use the stairs, and without even making head of who is the one initiating it, I find myself pushed against the wall with his lips on mine and his leg taking space between the two of mine. My fingers gently entangle into his blonde hair and though I do not have much to complain about the kiss itself, I recognize the taste of alcohol and cigarettes residing on his tongue as an ugly copy of the one I used to love so much. But the drunkenness makes it feel good anyway, regardless its lacking. I keep my eyes open wide and just as I was expecting, Junhoe soon pushes the heavy door open to be put straight-face in front of my sweet disobeying.  
Taken by surprise, after the initial disbelief, he snaps. By grabbing the blonde guy and aggressively pulling him away from me, he causes Donghyuk to hit the ground hard. A matter of few inches and he would have fallen down the stairs. I got what I wanted and after the small adrenaline rush followed by a feeling of accomplishment, I find myself enjoying the show. But a contradicting feeling is just as much present, and I cannot help but feel somehow sorry for the poor playboy who got involved in this worn-off game by a joke fate played on him.  
I watch motionlessly the scene unfolding; Junhoe screaming unclear words at his friend who is still sitting on the floor in a state of distress. My sudden incomprehension of the reason why he is directing his rage at the wrong person makes me lean down to Donghyuk and offer him a hand, completely ignoring Junhoe. “Are you okay?” Confusion makes him hesitate, yet he grabs it and I help him back up on his feet.  
Junhoe does not even let him breathe before he raises his voice again. “You gaesaekki go straight back home and don’t you ever dare talk to her again, got it?” He grabs hard on his arm throwing him out to the corridor and shutting the door behind him, then turns his attention to me. “That’s why you are a bad person. The only one worse than you is Yunah.”  
Detaching myself from the noise coming out of his mouth, my perception becomes rigid. A sense of apathy at his words starts taking over me, but the feeling never gets old. The lack of sensibility, empathy and emotions never changes when the high vanishes and the alcohol starts giving in. “I’m out,” I say coldly as I quickly sneak through the door and haste to grab my stuff to leave the place.  
The reason for my urge to disappear is not avoidance. I am giving him all the rights to call me names, but one of the worst things you can do to a person is leaving them to deal with their bursting feelings alone, when you are the one who caused the suffering. Not a kiss but this is my revenge. A response to my personal hell caused by the consequences of his action. Leaving me to deal with it alone, accompanied by his simple words of “I didn’t know, it’s not my fault,” not even a mere sorry has ever left his lips.  
I hurry downstairs, not minding paying as I assume somebody else will, but I cannot escape his fast steps catching up with me sooner than I was hoping for. Again, I am cornered into a wall. My cold and unfazed expression seems to bother him. “How can you be so cold?!”  
“This is nothing for a steel heart,” I reply without blinking an eye.  
“Why did you do that when I clearly asked you not to, huh?” He pauses but no answer comes from my side. “Why do you keep refusing me, but you’re okay with every other fucking guy you meet?” I almost feel his breath on my cheek, but I cannot understand what kind of emotion his words are filled with.  
“‘Cause I do what I want.” I roll my eyes as the answer was self-evident. “Unlike you, I don’t go against anyone’s will.” I hit a nerve.  
“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” I suddenly feel a grip around my neck, an action he would not take sober, and I would have kind of like it if it was not for Junhoe’s face annoying the hell out of me.  
“Didn’t I fucking tell you that if you lay your hands on me one more time, I’m gonna report you?” I raise my voce, steadiness echoes in it. “I’m not your fucking call girl and I don’t owe you shit.” The grip around my neck tightens almost undetectably. “Get the fuck away from me,” my nerves start to give in as I have nothing left to tell him. I have had enough of him until my next life.  
“Ya! Let her go.” A command suddenly comes from the building entrance, and I look in the direction of the firm voice. A stranger appears in my spectrum of vision; a guy with brown strains of hair covering his forehead and falling onto his cold eyes. A simple black shirt covering his upper body, with a thin golden chain hanging from his neck, and a pair of washed-off ripped jeans fit his style perfectly. His icy look rest on my face and if it was not for the strong sense of awareness he awakes in me, I would call him quits in a second. I am not a victim in need of a helping hand. But something in his aura makes it clear he is not alike to any of the guys I have encountered so far on the streets of the dark side of the night of Seoul. But just as much I would despise a tough-looking and over-confident boy like him, his eyes piercing through me somehow intrigue me more than I would dare to admit.  
“Excuse me?” Junhoe slowly turns his head to see if it the guy is worth dealing with.  
The mysterious guy slowly approaches us. I catch glimpse of the shadow of three other silhouettes standing behind him without exposing themselves to the situation. “She said she’s not your call girl.”  
He drops his grip and unbelievably stares at the stranger. “And what would you know, huh?” I immediately become invisible to his eyes and for a moment there I think of a chance to leave unnoticeably, but the brown-haired stranger’s aura makes my feet unable to move.  
“I know what I hear,” the guy responds and despite being slightly of a smaller figure than Junhoe, his presence emits a greater amount of power. “She said go away, so go away.” With the clear goal of making this encounter as short as possible, he is not about to waste any more words than needed.  
Hating to be ordered around, Junhoe takes a defensive position. “And who are you to care of other people’s business?”  
The guy, clearly annoyed by his stubbornness, rolls his eyes in a pure act of mocking him and takes a few steps closer. “Someone who doesn’t like dickheads fucking around on his streets. Get out,” he says straight to his face with a warning grin.  
Junhoe, as someone who would never risk his rich ass, turns on his heels and ill at ease, predictably heads for the elevator, pressing the button too many times on repeat. Not even a stare comes in my direction.  
I, too, get ready to leave the place when I notice a pair of brown eyes still looking at me. “Not even a thank you?” We both lean at the same time to pick my bag from the floor, but his reflex is faster.  
I grab the bag from his hands a bit too forcefully. “I could have handled that alone,” I say.  
He smiles shortly. “Didn’t seem so.”  
“Things ain’t always as they seem,” I sigh and fake a big smile, reaching for the exit.  
“Ya, at least don’t make it look like I’m the bad guy here,” he says to my back.  
“Over-confident is not the same as bad,” I turn for a mere second, then leave to the street. I search for a dry piece of wall to sit on, as far from the crowd as possible, and text Yunah.  
_Minah: Where you at?___  
_Yunah: I made Junheo even more mad oops kkkkk you with Donghyuk?___  
_Minah: He left, let’s go home___  
_Yunah: I don’t wanna i will get rid of Junheo___  
_Minah: You know you won’t___  
_Yunah: You can go if you want___  
I turn my phone off. I am not responsible for her and this time I will let her handle it on her own. I conclude I should get a taxi, so I take a look around in search for a good spot, but I know it is going to be a tough win to accomplish at this hour, in this area.  
A part of me wants to find a convenience store and drink by myself until passing out, but a small drop of the awareness the mysterious guy awakened in me knows better. Out of the blue, a blurred fragment of the lost images surfaces, like an old photobook I could not be reminded of for what seems a lifetime. The moment this guy’s eyes crossed mine, Junheo’s hand appeared too heavy for a tiny bit of time, almost seeming like a threat. How did I become so unbelievably cold, so detached, so insensible? How can I not fear anything? How can I so confidently believe nothing can get to me, nothing can touch me, almost as I was invincible? I can handle everything they inflict me, but when did it come this far? When have I really died?  
“Do you have a lighter?” I get distracted from my own thoughts by a voice coming from behind my back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, starting with the real thing.

“Here.” I throw my ₩1,000 worth lighter at the guy’s shadow without even looking in his direction. I hear no sound of the yellow plastic hitting the cold ground, so I assume he must have caught it in time.  
“Thanks,” he mumbles. “Want a smoke?” At the second impression his voice indeed sounds familiar, but it could just as much belong to any random guy I did accidently bump into throughout the night.  
“I don’t smoke.” I urge to turn around and finally be able to see the guy’s face to quickly judge whether I can get some help out of him or should try my luck somewhere else.  
“Why do you have a lighter then?” He raises his eyebrow returning the plastic friend back to its rightful owner.   
One look is enough to notice this guy is the exact same one from before. I keep my gaze fixed on his face, but I stare right through him in order to keep it intact and not get misled into the tides of his strange eminence. “Good way to get free alcohol,” I say.  
“Aigo, always getting in debt. You’ll only buy yourself problems.” A smooth, grayish cloud of smoke rises from his cigarette and encircles me. “There’s no such thing as free in this world.”  
“I don’t owe anything to anyone, it’s their free will. I never did ask for anything after all,” I say with my careless expression still stuck to my face like a sheet mask. “On the other hand, though... if I was to get back all that people owe me, I would definitely live by nicer rules.”  
“Sadly, couldn’t agree more.” He sloppily throws the burned cig on the ground covered in puddles, not even bothering to step on it with his snow-white, probably expensive, shoes. “What are you doing here, though? I thought you left.”  
“Ever tried to get a damn taxi at this hour here?” Maybe he could spill some tricks from his sleeve, as he looks like someone who uses the taxi’s service relatively often at nighttime.  
He smiles as he knew exactly what just rushed through my mind. “You should wait another hour or so.” He turns to leave but suddenly stops in his way. “Let’s get a drink.”  
I titter at his sudden invitation. “Just stop playing nice as everyone else. I’m sick of guys like you.” My eyes pierce straight into his back.  
“Acting all like you know me...” Without turning around to meet my face, he shakes his head but does not seem particularly bothered by my accusations. “It’s my table but you buy your own drink.”  
His approach certainly varies in comparison to what I learned from my self-inflicted lessons using the flashy Gangnam streets as an improvised classroom. Just what kind of game is he playing? “Aren’t you going to start collecting my debts?”  
“I ain’t need to beg, you know.” He heads toward the bar and for a minimum amount of time I stare at his reflection in the pond, accompanied by street lights and drinking places’ headers. Calculating the possibility to get a taxi sometime soon and realizing it is most likely not going to happen, I have no smarter thing left to do than follow him back in. “Hanbin,” he introduces himself as soon as he senses my footsteps trying to match up to his pace.  
I sigh. “Minah.”  
Using the elevator, we reach in silence the same suljib I ran away from just a bit earlier. I impatiently search the place with my eyes, nervous about whom I may find. “Don’t worry, your friend and that dickhead left together a few minutes ago,” Hanbin informs me and vaguely pats my shoulder. His gesture reassures me as they are the last people I would want to meet during the remaining hours of this night.  
“There’s my crew!” He points towards a table in what you could call the least noisy spot of the place. We approach his friends and I recognize the three shadows from before. “Sit,” Hanbin pushes me down next to another tough-looking, blonde-haired guy with an exposed forehead, and steals an empty chair for himself from the nearest table. “Mino,” the guy introduces himself smiling. The smile softens his firm features making him look a bit more approachable. I turn my attention to the two guys across the table. The brown eyes of a purple head with an eyebrow piercing stare back at me. “Jiwon,” he coolly says, and I cannot overlook his handsomeness. The last, black-haired one looks almost as a shy kid in comparison to the other three. “Chanwoo,” he softly says, and I get a liking for him right away, probably thanks to his innocent charm.  
“Since when are you picking up girls?” The purple-haired guy asks keeping a cool face.  
“Since she could kill a man,” Hanbin laughs making himself comfortable in the chair.  
Jiwon does not hide his doubtfulness, “with a hand around her neck?”  
“Wasn’t really kinky though,” Hanbin tilts his head like a small bird, “I’m sure I can do it better.”  
I roll my eyes. “Just don’t be surprised when my hand will squeeze the last breath out of your lungs,” I say, annoyed at his unnecessary comment. I hear a laugh coming from my side.  
“Is she always like that?” The blonde-haired Mino asks, pointing his head in my direction. “I like her.”  
I open my mouth to speak but Hanbin shuts me up before I can even get the chance, pissing me off even more, “didn’t I say she could kill a man?”  
“We really needed another bad tamper in the crew,” Jiwon says, obviously referring to Hanbin as the first. “We should drink to it!” He places a clean soju glass in front of me, then starts pouring everyone their fair share of alcohol.  
I stare at the shot of soju hesitatingly until Hanbin flicks my forehead. “We’ll share the bill,” he says.  
“You’re making a girl pay?” Jiwon raises his eyebrow in surprise.  
“She has enough debts, I will spare her another one,” Hanbin says. “Drink,” he orders me raising his glass in wait for the cheers. “To our bad temper,” he adds, gently bumping me with an elbow.  
The liquid burns my throat as I swallow it, and I hear the kkkk-sound coming from all sides. “So... what do you guys do?” I ask.  
“We’re underground rappers,” Jiwon is the first to respond with no intention to hide his pride.  
“Except Chanwoo, he’s... our dongsaeng,” Mino adds, and Jiwon pats Chanwoo’s shoulder.  
Slowly the atmosphere becomes more familiar, and by giving off a warmer vibe almost as we were friends, even Jiwon relaxes his facial muscles revealing his softer and funnier side, whilst Chanwoo gets more talkative and his shyness melts away a bit.  
On Hanbin’s wish, I briefly explain the background story of Junheo, adding in Yunah’s role and leaving out the details that should be left untold. “Why are you still sticking around? Hang with us, we’re more fun,” Mino pats my hair and I cannot help but smile. I might consider his suggestion, feeling as for a change I could start off the right track with the male population.  
We keep on talking and drinking, learning to know each other and getting more at ease in each other’s presence, when the smile on Jiwon’s face suddenly vanishes. I follow his gaze to find out the reason and see a group of three guys approaching our table and stopping at Hanbin’s side. Two of them, both dressed in black with leather jackets, one dark brown-haired and the other blonde, stand at the sides of the tallest one with an over-confident grin on their faces. The tallest, whose hair are of a yellowish blonde shade, puts a hand on Hanbin’s shoulder to pat and squeeze it way too hard to be considered friendly. Though Hanbin perceives a new presence next to him, he does not bother to lift his eyes.  
“What a pretty girl you got here, Hanbin,” the guy says leaning into me and gently slapping my cheek.  
“Don’t touch her with your filthy hands.” Hanbin grabs the guy’s wrist firmly, leaving red marks on his white skin, and waits for him to retreat his hand on his own.  
The tall guy laughs. “So she doesn’t know about the dirt on your hands, huh?”  
Hanbin’s lip twitches. “Get her out now,” he speaks through his teeth, giving Mino the order.  
Mino quickly grabs my arm and pulls me out of my seat. The newly arrived guy catches my other arm and stops me in the way, then captures my face with his hand for his fingers to dig holes into my cheeks. “I’ll have to remember this pretty face, you never know when she’ll serve me well,” he laughs and pats my head, then lets me go. “When did you get so careless, Kim Hanbin?” The guy turns his attention back to the breathing reason he approached our table in the first place.  
“Always a pleasure to meet you, Choi Junghong,” Hanbin responds back with an icy tone and eyes that could shot bullets through a skull. At this point Mino drags me forcefully out of the building without giving me time to oppose Hanbin’s word.  
Once outside, we take a turn around the structure and soon reach a quiet and darker area that opens into an uncrowded road with a site of construction on the other side, marking the end of the night district. Mino makes a phone call and I take the opportunity to attentively scan the place with my eyes, as the feeling something must be off subsides me ever since those guys let us off without the slightest concern. As thought, I catch sight of a dark silhouette hiding behind the framework of the construction, only a few meters away. I cannot see clearly the person’s face but the position he holds inclines he is holding an object pointed in our direction. I let my eyes adapt to the darkness to soon realize the item in question resembles something like a gun. I analyze the situation and from the guy’s posture I notice he is not interested in me but has another target – Mino. From the way the point of the gun is inclined downwards, I deduce his goal is probably not that of killing. Could it be an omen, or is there another intention to it?  
I detach from the reality I am staring at as it starts to feel like I was lost inside the lines of a book I was reading. A weird excitement shivers through my spine, and that which anyone else would detect as fear, only sharpens my senses and makes me alert of the countless options that could be just about to occur.  
“Mino,” I whisper, making sure the guy would not notice, “someone’s aiming a gun in your direction.”  
I hear his breath freeze at the discovery of what I mean. “Sshibal!” Mino looks straight into the face of the man and when the later one realizes he was noticed, his arm twitches nervously and fires the gun.  
A shot echoes through the air and my first thought is if it overrode the noise of the loud and flashy night district. The second thought that comes in my mind is how the whole experience of firing a gun must feel, but a car’s lights flashing down the street distract me from my thinking. As soon as they fade, the guy no longer appears to be in his hiding place. Only then it occurs to me to look in the direction of Mino and a feeling of anticipation takes over me as I have no idea what scene will come into my focus.  
Standing completely still, cold sweat drips down Mino’s forehead and his breathing appears too loud to my ears. I look around nervously and finding no traces of blood makes me sigh in relief as Mino seems to be just fine. But with that, the question of where the bullet has landed arises. I recall the short sound of something shattering and gaze behind us to see a hole in the lower third of a glass door of what appears to be a small closed off bakery. The bullet seems to have made its way through but left the door still intact, though the cracks can be clearly seen along its entire surface.  
The next minute a black car with tainted windows stops in front of us and Mino opens the door in a hurry, pushing me in the backseat and sitting next to me. “That’s our driver, Jinhwan,” he absentmindedly introduces me to the light brown-haired guy in the driver seat as soon as we drive away. I can tell he is a skillful driver from the way he keeps the speed high but has a quick response time and a keen eye.  
Mino still looks kind of pale. “Are you okay?” I ask, observing the red traffic lights reflecting on his skin. He nods and exhales deeply. “Who are those guys?” I ask.  
“Hanbin will tell you later,” he answers vaguely. “We’re going to his flat anyway, he’ll come soon.”  
“Can’t you tell me, though?” I give it another attempt.  
“No, Hanbin will know better how to handle this situation,” he insists.  
“What situation?” I insist as well, calmly but steady.  
Mino lays back in the seat, resting his head. “We’re probably all in trouble.”  
“What trouble?” I ask.  
“Aigo, do you always have so many questions?” He scratches his head.  
“I think I deserve to know since I apparently ended up in the middle of something, and it doesn’t look like anything good will come out of it,” I argue.  
“You’re not wrong on this,” he agrees. “But you’re probably not gonna hear a sorry from Hanbin so... I’m sorry.” He looks at me with a warm but somehow regretful smile and I cannot help but think he is cute.  
I sight in defeat drowning in my seat and frown. “Thanks,” I say half ironically.  
“You’re not gonna fight me?” He asks, slightly exaggerating a surprised expression.  
“Nah, I’m tired and I only fight with bad tempered guys,” I say with a reference to Hanbin. Mino laughs a bit with his face finally regaining some color.  
And indeed, I really am tired. After another night of dealing with Junheo and Yunah, all I wanted was to escape somewhere tranquil, forget and clear the fog from my mind. But as for some sort of a joke played by fate, I ended up at an unfamiliar building in front of the door of a stranger’s home somewhere in the outskirts of Gangnam district, next to another stranger who almost got shot and is now encouraging me to go in with a light push on my back. And the funny part is that it never crossed my mind to question those strangers but trusted and followed their words.


	4. Chapter 4

Mino turns on the lights and I get pleasantly surprised. The place is relatively bigger compared to a common apartment in Seoul. The entrance unfolds into a living room with two big black leather sofas on the right, forming a ninety-degree angle. An abstract painting is hanging above them, and a wooden coffee table is standing on a soft-looking beige carpet right in the middle. A big TV screen resides on the opposite wall and underneath, a vitrine cupboard matches the coffee table in its material and style. Across the room a bar with black stools hides the kitchen and above, one cannot fail to notice a long shelf filled with a vast choice of alcohol bottles, especially whiskeys and liquors. A kitchen table with chairs is placed in the corner, and large door windows open to a small but pretty balcony with a view on the distant Han river, giving the room just enough light to make it gloomily shine in the colors of the night. There are two doors on the left that must lead one to the bathroom and the other to Hanbin’s bedroom.  
“Sit,” Mino suggests, and I crash on the comfortable couch. He repeats my action, giving me a feeling of ease by sitting next to me in the unfamiliarity of the room I found myself in.  
He writes something on his phone then turns his attention to me. Through Mino’s talk, I learn a bit more about how he met Hanbin and Jiwon at an underground rap battle. They were opponents but ended up wasted together and eventually made a crew. At that time, they built an improvised recording room from scratch, which is now a fully equipped studio. He did not tell much about Chanwoo, just mentioned he is their friend’s dongsaeng who asked them for the favor of looking after him when he moved to Seoul.  
Soon enough, strong voices and loud footstep sounds start coming from the other side of the door, and I get on my feet fearing uninvited guests.  
Hanbin bursts through the door in what seems a devil rage and the first thing I notice is the bleeding wound on his lower lip and the dirt on his clothes. He storms through the room to pick up a bottle of cold water from the fridge, and I see that the chuckles of his hands are all bruised and covered in dry blood. More bruises on his face reveal themselves in the kitchen light. He curses silently, half in dedication to the stinging of the ripped lip and half to his aggressors. Right after comes Jiwon, whose eyebrow is cut open and the trace of dried blood resides on his temple. He is moving his right wrist in circles, cursing loudly that he hit the motherfucker too hard. Chanwoo enters last, avoiding any eye contact and a bit paler than I remember, but no apparent injuries are visible on his face.  
Hanbin takes a few deep breathes grabbing a towel from the bathroom and flushing it under warm water, then crashes down on the leather sofa and clears his injured face thoughtfully. I stay still observing Mino, but he does not look surprised at all, almost as he was expecting this kind of outcome. “You guys get out. Jiwon, explain Mino the situation and keep an eye on Chanwoo. This kid ain’t worth a shit,” Hanbin orders and one by one they leave the flat without a single word. I am left there blankly staring at the closed door without the slightest idea of what it is going on.  
“Where do you live?” is the first thing Hanbin asks me when the room empties. He is visibly over the edge but skillfully keeps his act intact.  
“What?” I ask, dissociating from the whole situation. “What happened?”  
“Where do you live, are you deaf?” He impatiently taps his fingers on his knee, raising his tone.  
I cross my arms on my chest. “Why the hell would I tell a stranger where I live?”  
He closes his eyes in distress. “This is no time for acting like a smart-ass. Where. Do. You. Live?” He repeats, stressing each word of the question intentionally, making it sound nearly like a threat. I prepare myself to talk back but as I happen to cross my eyes with his, a strange awareness hits me like a lighting for a mere second, yet enough to tell him my address without further opposition. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his tights. “Is it a flat? A crowded area,” he keeps on interrogating me, “do you live alone? Are there any security cameras?”  
“Hanbin, what the fuck is going on?” I stop his unending thread of question marks.  
“There’s someone after me,” he replies.  
“I figured out that much by myself. Who?” I ask.  
“A mafia boss,” he speaks carefully.  
I bat my eyelids several times in disbelief. “And how did I get involved in this shit again?”  
“You’re related to me and my crew now. You’re probably the first they’ll try to use to blackmail me, being the most vulnerable and the easiest pray for them. Plus, from what Mino said you saw their guy almost shooting him. They’ll want to make sure there are no witnesses in the end. For those reasons, I’ll have to keep you under surveillance,” he explains. “You’ll have to trust me from now on.”  
“Trust you? I don’t even fucking know you, how can you expect me to trust a guy in a some sort of business with a fucking mafia!” I argue, incredulous of his words.  
“Listen to me when I speak,” he raises his voice, “this ain’t no fucking joke. It won’t be the first time they’ve tried to kill us and it certainly won’t be the last.”  
I laugh at the absurdity of the whole situation. “Maybe if you wouldn’t walk around acting all tough and shit, you could have spared yourself some troubles,” I raise my voce, evidently angry at him for dragging me into who knows what kind of a mess. “And if you would have minded your own damn business, maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with your shit, too now.”  
“Watch your mouth,” he says through his teeth, confirming I have touched a nerve.  
“Is it about the dirt on your hands?” I push a little harder, fast approaching a thin line. “Did you kill someone? One of their men?”  
Hanbin gets up on his feet, slowly approaching me and I suddenly feel him breaking into my space. “Don’t you dare making accusations when you don’t know shit!”  
“As far as I know it could just as well be true!” I know I went too far, when for the second time tonight a hand grabs my neck. But Hanbin’s grip feels different, firmer, and his hand colder.  
“If you want to fucking die then there’s the door, I couldn’t care less. But you better die from your own fucking hands in the next twenty-four hours,” he says, and a chill runs down my spine. I have been told many things indeed, but never have someone stated so deliberately that dying is a choice I can make anytime. “‘Cause I’m not gonna wipe your blood off a dead-end street and carry the guilt of your sliced throat. You should be fucking grateful that I’m not a heartless piece of shit ‘cause in my place, no one would give a damn about your life and what those guys could do to you.”  
My brain, still unable to recognize the danger of the situation, does not let me give in to some mad guy’s talk. “Then why’s your hand around my neck? Or are you checking if you can do it better?” I laugh shortly as I gasp for air, only to intensify his anger and make the grip on my skin a little tighter.  
“You can maybe handle your stupid fuckboys, but you won’t be able to handle gangsters. Are you out of your fucking mind? What if that guy would have put a bullet through your brain?! Or actually hit Mino?!” His eyes shoot bullets through my head and again, something knocks on my conscience all of a sudden, waking me up from derealization and causing his hand to seem like a rope around my neck. I would not dare to say fear is what I feel, but my eyes open to the seriousness of my position. Hanbin is not Junhoe. Hanbin is not just another fuckboy. Hanbin could be dangerous. I stare at him and I wonder what kind of expression is painted on my face as he seems to notice the unusual shift in my aura. “Your attitude is gonna get you killed, get your shit together!” He says, then frees my neck from his hold and turns his back on me, suddenly changing his voice into a softer shade as the tug of war from a mere moment ago did not happen in this reality. “Sleep here, I’ll give you a ride home in the morning.”  
I gently rub my skin in the same spot his fingers were pressing down with force just a second ago. “Do you think I’m that stupid to stay at some guy’s place?” I say, trying to keep my tone sooth and avoid another demonstration of power.  
“I should let you get killed, would be less trouble,” he sighs.  
“You should have never interfered with my business in the first place and now you wouldn’t need to worry about anyone else but you,” I argue, failing to stay completely calm.  
“Would you keep quiet or do I have to shut your mouth myself?” He crosses his arms on his chest and taps his fingers in clear irritation.  
“Hah,” I titter in sign of annoyance. “Not only you fuck with me, you also order me around now.”  
He tilts his head and fast step approaches me. At first thought, I imagine he is going to grab my neck again or give me another lesson on death, but all my guessing is wrong when his lips abruptly press onto mine way too aggressively, leaving me short of breath from the initial shock. On impact, I push him away forcefully, but he is way too strong for me to succeed in moving him even an inch. In response he only presses harder onto my mouth, making sure I will not forget the iron taste of his freshly wounded lip. His tongue breaks into my mouth leaving me completely defeated, as I remain speechless when he finally pulls away. He laughs, “you’re unbelievable,” and leaves for what seems his bedroom.  
He does not even give me enough time for my brain to collect and process the information of his actions, until he returns with a pillow and a white blanket, throwing them on the couch. “You can sleep here, good night,” he says coldly.  
“Why did you have to butt into my shit?” I ask, this time relatively in control of my tone.  
“I didn’t like his hand on you, and I was right,” he smiles at me, “mine fits you better.” He closes the door behind him, leaving me standing in the lonesomeness of the unfamiliar living room.  
“Can you at least be a gentleman and lend me a shirt to sleep? I wanna take a shower,” I shout after him, thinking it would only be fair as I am stuck in his house against my own will. I wait for an answer but what I get in return is Hanbin opening the bedroom door just enough to show half of his face and throw a black, oversized T-shirt in my face. I cannot help but get even more frustrated.  
“The towels are in the bathroom, goodnight.” He shuts the door much more forcefully than it would be necessary. Bad temper is too light of a word to describe him.  
Showered by hot water, my tense muscles relax, but I cannot seem to run away from the afterimage of Hanbin forcing a kiss onto me. Kisses never meant a thing to me. Lacking any kind of emotions but a momentary attraction, they were just as empty as my soul. But this one felt utterly different. Filled with anger, frustration, and a hint of desperation, it managed to shake something I am not yet aware of.  
I grab a bottle of water, then make my bed on the couch and lay down, noticing the first signs of the sunrise hiding behind heavy gray clouds. I get a nostalgic feeling of the times when Yunah used to be my side, when she was the one person I could always count on. But those days were long gone, and I was left alone again. Yet somehow, she still believes everything is fine, everything has been fixed. But once something gets broken, it can never be brought back to its original form. There will always be cracks, a missing piece, or glued black together in a wrong pattern. And in the worst-case scenario, it will be broken beyond repair. I should stop caring, once and for all, I should stop holding onto something that deprived me from another piece of my heart. With those thoughts in my mind, I fall asleep.  
I wake up to the disturbing sounds coming from the kitchen. A light aroma reaches my nose and I look in its direction to see Hanbin standing behind the kitchen bar trying to drink what seems to be a cup of coffee. “Time to go home,” he says.  
“I don’t wanna go home,” I murmur still half asleep without even realizing what I just blurted.  
He lifts his eyebrow. “You like me that much?” I roll my eyes and get out of the blankets to change back into the rest of my clothes. Hanbin laughs and throws at me his red hoodie. “It’s cold, it rained this morning. Here, drink some coffee before we go,” he nods in the direction of another cup waiting.  
“Looks like you’re in a good mood today.” I quickly dress up, then sit on the bar stool right in front of his face. He is dressed in a comfortable gray hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants. The wounds on his face took on a purple note during his sleep and the lip got covered by a scab.  
“Yeah, so be careful not to make me mad and spoil it.” Every time he nears the cup to his mouth, his silent curses are accompanied by a grimace.  
“That must hurt as fuck,” I say, almost feeling his pain.  
“Didn’t hurt when I shut your mouth, though”, he laughs, and I roll my eyes at his unnecessary comment.  
Soon after, we leave his apartment to step into a gloomy morning and enter the garage in front of the building to get in his black Audi with tainted glass.  
“I’m stuck to you so you better behave,” he states as soon as we drive away. His tone of speech is way less aggressive this morning compared to the one I had the honor to witness last night in his apartment.  
“Don’t you think the one that needs to behave is you? I’m not the one all beaten up,” I say.  
“They are the ones to deserve beating, not me,” he says through his teeth.  
“What happened, though? You didn’t explain much,” I say, expecting some sort of a more detailed story.  
“The less you know the better, but you’ll find out more tonight. I’ll pick you up later in the evening, there’s somewhere I need you to go with me,” he informs me as we stop at the last red light before arriving at my address. “Give me your phone,” he orders, and I hesitatingly hand it to him.  
“I might have plans today,” I say as I try to peek at the screen to see what he is doing. As evident as it can be, he saves his number and gives himself a call, then returns it back to me.  
“You don’t have a choice,” he says coolly as it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t leave your house,” he orders, dropping me off right in front of the entrance.  
I watch the tire running over a puddle to splash dirty water in the air and soon, the sound of the engine ceases. I take some time to the observe the emptiness of the area before entering the flat and see a guy in a black hoodie walking down the street, with his face entirely shadowed by a black cap. Our eyes happen to meet and for some reason, I remember the man with the gun. If he missed Mino on purpose, what was the message he was trying to deliver? Why did he appear so nervous pointing the gun at his target?


	5. Dead Draw: Part 0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dead Draw is a series of short chapters appearing throughout the story unveiling its small parts.

My head was spinning, and my body was numb. My perception was distorted, and my sight blurred, my spectrum of feelings was nothing more than a slaying apathy. The cold ground was so distant to my senses that I thought I was floating. I could almost smell the alcohol evaporating though my skin. It was a while since I wrecked myself this much.  
The last thing I remembered was hanging at the bar counter with a glass full of whiskey and ice. Nothing had been exiting enough to catch my attention and escape the monotony. I was bored and had ended up glancing at the bartender. The scene in my mind was still so vivid. The shiny name plate on his plain white shirt read Jiyong; he was covered in tattoos and his hair was of a bright orange. The gazes, the almost imperceptible touches, the gestures, and the way my glass was always filled in return, with no need for money; I could not believed how easy it was, but I also knew the price would come later.  
Now that same orange hair illuminated by a dirty streetlight seemed like a fire spreading through the night, ready to devour me. Jiyong grabbed me by the wrist, almost shattering my bone and lifted me up from the dull ground. His other hand reached for my chin lifting my head up, and his fingers on my cheeks would have been awfully painful if alcohol would not have numbed out my sense of touch. The hateful, dominant gaze in his eyes was making me want him to abuse me. I was tired of apathy, of emptiness, of numbness. I was missing the pain.  
I wanted him to choke me until my head would get dizzy, until my eyes would roll backwards, until every breathe would be torture. I wanted him to grab me, bruise me, cut through my skin, leave stains all over my body. I wanted him to pull my hair, to throw me on the ground, to kick me, to hurt me. I wanted him to tell me to die and maybe I finally would have.  
But he did not answer my silent wishes. Instead, he threw me into the wall yelling something I could not decipher through the sudden wheezing in my ears. I wondered if the back of my head was bleeding from the impact, but I did not care enough to check. I laughed at him before I finally collapsed on the cold asphalt.  
“I’ll help you, if you help me,” a voice said as I slowly started to open my eyes and regain consciousness. The numbness of my body dissolved, leaving my whole being wrapped in tiredness, but still I could not feel any pain. I lifted my gaze upwards. A guy with a black baseball cap was holding out a hand to me.


	6. Chapter 6

I am relieved to see Yunah is not home when I carefully peak through the door before entering the flat. I take a small sigh of relief but even so, no matter how angry and disappointed I am, a part of me cannot help but worry if she is okay and if she is safe. It’s none of my problems, I tell myself and crash on the bed checking my phone for the first time since last night to notice an unread message.  
_Yunhyeon: Hiiii! So then we grab a beer today? Hongdae?___  
_Minah: Sure thing!___  
I do not know much about Yunhyeon as we have only been texting for a few days now, but he seems as a very likable guy. Keeping in contact with him gives me an impression of being in touch with the reality I strive to run from, as it could be nice to have a normal friend to hang out with and do something usual people my age should be doing. Drink a beer and eat pizza, or take a walk and do some window shopping, maybe stopping by a coin noraebang on the way, without the alcohol and a lunatic’s mood always getting in the way. Without scars and scratches, without hands around one’s neck. Without all the worn-out games, without the countless fights. Without all the pain and resentment, without knives in one’s back. Must be nice to be able to smile like those cheerful youngsters I often see on the streets of Hongdae. Must be nice to be able to throw away the mask you have been forced to wear in order to survive until it became a natural part of your being. Must be nice to be normal.  
Normal? I laugh at myself as I suddenly catch the tail of my thoughts. I indeed unlearned the definition of the word normal long ago, as everything one would consider abnormal has been a usual constant in my world to the point, where even being chased by a mafia does not seem so improbable. But this place beyond all the normal is where I have chosen to live ages ago, without any option of going back.  
Do I really believe meeting Yunhyeon will be that different than meeting any other guy in this city? No, but let me have my piece of the delusional cake, my five minutes of false hope. And I am definitely not going to stay home as Hanbin demanded, waiting for him to knock on my door and forcefully take me some place suspicious, or Yunah to suddenly appear in front of my face. Moreover, it should be fine as long as I stay in a crowded area and stick to Yunhyeon.  
The afternoon comes quickly with various things that have to be done and after I give a quick cleaning to our small but cozy flat, I prepare myself to go out. To my surprise, Yunah still does not return home by the time the clock strikes 5pm. I am used to her coming in late, but it never took her so long, or at least she used to send a text. Nevermind. I shake her out of my head and leave for the subway station. When I arrive in Hongdae, the streets are just as crowded as ever.  
_Yunhyeon: I’m at the exit, the guy in a white shirt and messy hair lol___  
_Minah: Coming! Is there a day your hair ain’t messy tho kkkkk___  
_Yunhyeon: Probably not lol I’ll make yours messy too___  
I look around the entrance in search for Yunhyeon to find a guy in a white T-shirt overwritten by a check-pattern dark shirt waving in my direction. At first impression I would say he gives off the vibe of an immature bad boy with an unsteady wish of becoming a better person. He throws the cig on the ground as I approach him and greets me a bit awkwardly. “I wanted to smoke but was too nervous, I’m not good at meeting new people,” he says, and I try to reassure him that he is probably going to be surprised at how easy-going I am. We decide to visit a pub and get some fries with beer; an atmosphere allowing us to talk comfortably.  
The first thing I learn is Yunhyeon is the kind of person who never stops talking and never minds leaving the word to someone else but in all honesty, I like it like that. It allows me to distance myself from existence while listening to a bunch of useless information I will forget soon after. He tells me how he left school and ran away from his family, and how alcohol was his best friend ever since, then about his first experience at the police station when he stole a car with his friends and how he is trying to get his shit together now. The second thing I learn is how much alike me he is in terms of being capable to adapt his personality based on the person he has in front of him. His talk can go from how to build a computer to his travel experience, then take a turn and end with tattoos. But what he lacks a great bit, and I consider it a big loss, is the ability to observe and get a quick analysis of the person standing before him.  
Our conversation leads to Marvel movies, and after I admit I have never seen one, he insists on visiting a DVD room to watch his favorite. “I’m not that stupid to go there with a guy,” I object.  
“Why? I go there with my hyungs a lot,” he says. “I just want to show you how amazing it is,” he insists like only a small child would know to, and after half of an hour of listening how great Marvel is, I give in.  
“Okay but promise me nothing will happen. We just watch the movie,” I say, and he pinky promises me, then searches on his phone for a good place. Once there, he chooses one of the superhero movies I have never heard of and we enter the small room adjusting ourselves on the synthetic leather sofa. He picks up the box of handkerchiefs as soon as the movie starts and holds it tightly on his chest, causing me to lift my eyebrow in wonder. He says he always cries during certain scenes and I cannot help but be amused.  
Half into the movie and his fingers entangle into my hair. “Sorry if it looks like flirting, but I like playing with hair,” he says, and I let him be, already predicting where this is going. “Can you move a bit closer? Will be easier to pat your hair,” he smiles, and so I lay down resting my head on his chest to make myself more comfortable. So smoothly and my hand is already under his shirt, with the excuse of his realization my hands are cold, and he will warm them up. Listening to his heartbeat I start to get sleepy, until I hear him whining about something. I just want to laugh at his acting but instead, I ask him what the matter is and the only reply I get back is an “it’s okay, forget it. I promised you.”  
But for the person I am, his response only makes me want to try and test how far he is planning to go. “I don’t mind,” I say, and intentionally lift my head for him to be able to kiss me. I did see it all coming but I let him do it, all just for the sake of my selfish entertainment.  
The fact that I am sober makes it seem as a bad improvisation to kill some time, but it also causes me to be more observant and for some reason, curious. The way he tries to act innocent reflects in his way of skillful lips without the need to use the tongue. Yet my attentiveness falls apart the exact second my mind strikes me by replaying the scene from Hanbin’s apartment before my eyes, and no matter how much I fight the need to compare, it is the only logical thing my brain can think of doing.  
“I like kissing you, I could do it for hours,” he smiles distancing a bit, and I cannot believe he is trying to use his childness to cover his intentions.  
“Not gonna happen,” I say, yet not even a bit alert. “I’m not one of those girls. Kissing is fine, but that’s also where business ends with me.”  
“I regret taking a girl to a DVD room now,” he says, realizing I see right through him and laughs shortly. “But hey, at least give me credits for doing a good job at holding back.” He gazes down at his pants and only a fool would not get the hint. “Do you mind if I smoke?” He asks, trying to distract himself.  
I shake my head reaching for his cigarettes and throw him the pack. “But it might turn me on,” I laugh in pure provocation. The movie will end in no time and we will have to leave but some making out does not hurt, not even if you use it to repress the memory of another kiss; something I never had the need to do, not even once, until this very moment. And yet, should not I be worried about my life instead?  
“Sorry for fucking up this friendship,” Yunhyeon says as we leave the building and start walking down the street, taking a turn to avoid the biggest crowd.  
“That’s my line,” I laugh half in irony.  
“But if you’re okay, let’s keep seeing,” he proposes.  
“And see how it goes?” I ask.  
“And see how we fuck it up even more,” he replies. “Can I take you out for lunch next week?”  
“Hm,” I think for a moment. “Let’s see.”  
“So I’ll take that as a yes,” he smiles happily.  
I get distracted as I hear a loud engine approaching and turn in its direction instinctively. Sooner than I can notice, a black car stops in front of us, pulling at the breaks too forcefully and causing an unpleasant tires’ sound. “Get in, now,” a familiar voice says through the open car window and when I see those two icy eyes looking at me, I first think of walking away and erasing last night from my memories, but two thoughts stop me from acting on a whim. One, Hanbin said I should find out more about the situation today and two, do I really want to test his temper again?  
I glance at Yunhyeon, who is visibly torn between punching Hanbin in the face and trying to play it nice as he does not know what kind of situation is unfolding before him.  
“I told you you have no choice,” Hanbin says impatiently.  
“Excuse me, what did you say? She has all the rights to decide for herself,” Yunhyeon speaks up unable to hold back his annoyance.  
Hanbin lifts his eyebrow giving the slightest amount of attention to Yunhyeon, only to despise the outsider. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know shit so stay out of it,” he says coolly. “Minah, get in the car now,” he orders and with a heavy sigh I realize there really is no choice when it comes to a crazy guy.  
“Sorry, Yunhyeon,” I start, noticing the slight surprise on his face caused by Hanbin’s careless words. “Thanks for today, though.”  
Yunhyeon sighs, visibly unpleased with the outcome. “I’ll text you later, I enjoyed our time,” he says and gives me a quick hug before I enter the car and shut the door.  
“I told you not to leave your house,” Hanbin states as soon as he drives away.  
“I don’t like being ordered around,” I reply too calmly.  
Hanbin pushes on the pedal a little bit harder. “Geez, what did I do to deserve this,” he murmurs more to himself than to the audience.  
“Like you’re that much better,” I reply in irony.  
“I told you not to spoil my mood today, I might go back to my bed temper,” he says and blasts the volume of the music a bit louder. I recognize the track as Kid Milli’s Why Do Fuckbois Hang Out on the Net.  
“You should stop hanging with fuckboys,” he says keeping his focus on the road, and I understand the motivation behind his last action. The title itself is pure mocking.  
“Why would you care?” I roll my eyes.  
“You’ll get yourself in trouble, bigger than you will able to handle,” he says.  
I laugh. “It’s funny that you are the one talking about getting in trouble, seriously.”  
He looks my way and keeps his gaze fixed on me for what I perceive as too long of a time. “It doesn’t mean anything to you, or am I wrong?”  
“What?” I ask, well aware of his reference.  
“You know what,” he replies, but fails to get an answer from me. “Silence speaks louder than you think.” He half of smiles, confident in the correctness of his guess.  
I glance at him for a brief moment but long enough to notice the constant rigidness of his features, now adorned by a swollen lip and fresh scratches every here and there. I do not overlook his tense jaw, and for a moment there I wonder what do the details of his visage reveal. What does his body language expose? His tight grip on the wheel, the heaviness of his foot weighting down on the pedal, his eyes focused and so icy cold they could cut through a man’s flesh. Could I perhaps find a piece of his story inside the triviality of the things that cannot reach beyond what the eye meets?  
I bite my lip. “Empty,” I say defeated by my own thoughts, “it feels empty.”  
At my words, he suddenly pulls at the brakes so hard I almost smash my head in the car glass, stopping in the middle of the street with a loud noise coming from the tires and acting like it was a completely normal thing to do. Car sirens start sounding from all around as the drivers almost bump straight into our car, showing up their middle fingers when passing us by. I glance at Hanbin to demand an explanation only to see he finds it extremely funny, and for the first time I think he really must be insane.  
He tilts his head in wonder and I lose track of the thread of my thoughts. “Does this feel empty, too?” He asks, bringing my face closer to his with a hand. Then, out of the blue, his lips press aggressively onto mine. He takes me by complete surprise for the second time in less than twenty-four hours and causes me to freeze. Despite the force of his action, his lips feel lighter and the contact softer compared to last night, and I deduce the reason behind it must be the pain of the swollen cut. This time I do not sense any anger or frustration in his kiss but rather pure mocking and a twisted pleasure of fucking around with my mind. He sucks onto my lower lip and bites it strongly but still with enough tact. His tongue tries to find its way to mine and though I show him clear refusal, no matter how much I want to hate it, I feel a strange urge to get a fix on his taste as his breathe joins mine for a brief moment. “I thought so,” he smiles into my mouth. “Stop putting your lips where they don’t belong,” he says with his mouth still too close to mine, and a winning grin drawn on his face.  
He pulls away and in a moment of rage, I compulsively try to open the door to storm out on the street as far from him as possible, but his reaction time is faster, and he locks the door with a click. “Where are you going? We’re in the middle of a highway.” He laughs and drives away, leaving me open-mouthed again. “I clearly can’t keep you locked in a room, so I’m gonna get you someone to keep an eye on you for when I’m busy,” he speaks as nothing ever happened. No answer comes from my side, so he changes the topic to the previous one.“Don’t get too used to it or it will stop working,” he pats my hair and I forcefully push his hand away from my head, an action that only makes him smile wider. “I told you not to spoil my mood.”

_ _ _ _


	7. Chapter 7

Hanbin strays from the main street and stops on an empty side road making me wonder what for. Surrounded by the darkness of the night, the only source of light is coming from the car’s armature. “Now listen to me,” he starts, “I’m only gonna say this once.” In the heavy silence, his voice appears too loud to my ears. “I know it might seem stupid that some gangsters are on to you just for seeing you once with us, but those dickheads take everything into account,” he says, “and my additional mistake was when I ordered Mino to get you out without thinking firt. It looked like we got something going on...”  
“I know how those guys work,” I interrupt him. “Rather than finish you off right away, they’ll take it out on your people to make you suffer first,” I say, with my gaze glued on the front glass.  
He smiles to himself. “I’ve guessed you’re not that dumb. I saw you around a few times before,” he confesses. “It seems like you know how to play but you got some pitiful friends. I’ve seen more drama around you than anything else and it seems it’s been reaching its peak.”  
His confession was somehow to be expected. In fact, even strangers would notice and sometimes ask me about it and yet, I do not want to let him have it. “Hah, so you’ve been sniffing around my business before? Last night was not the first, huh? Michinnom,” I murmur.  
“Observing is not sniffing around,” he states, not even trying to get mad at me. “You made me curious, so I approached you when I got the chance,” he replies calmly, and I lift my eyebrow at his answer. “You have one hell of a difficult personality, that I can tell. But I smell no fear on you, so I know you’ll be able to handle whatever may come our way.”  
I wonder if that is half a compliment. “What happened last night?” I ask.  
“Lots of beating up as you could see,” he laughs shortly then turns serious again. “They delivered a message from their boss. It would be too easy to just kill me, so I’ll be the one asking for death in the end,” Hanbin explains keeping his eyes fixed on the wheel and dedicating himself a sad smile. “And even though I knew I shouldn't talk to you, ‘cause it'd mean potential danger for you, I couldn’t stay away and acted out of my own selfishness again. I’d be just as guilty if something happens to you.”  
I swallow my words as I know it is not the right moment to talk back. It might look the opposite, but I do have some sense of consideration. “It is what it is, Hanbin,” I say as I let out a long sigh. “We can’t change things, so we just gotta deal with it.” Seriousness echoes in my voice as I turn my head to look at him for the first time since he stopped the car. “But... what did you do to get into this?”  
Hanbin avoids my eyes and instead of giving me an answer, he starts the car with a blank expression and turns the wheel to return on the semi-crowded street. “You don’t need to know,” he says as the night city lights greet us again, “if something happens is better if you don’t know.”  
I stare out of the car window, thinking what kind of secrets Seoul is hiding in its dark and I decide to let it go for now. Hanbin sounds and looks different, unlike the over-confident and bad-tampered guy I got used to see. There is a sad, heavy feeling weighting down on him as he was dwelling on something which at the same time was making him hold it together. He cannot rage at me when nothing was my fault and I cannot get mad when it was never his purpose. He does not owe me an answer. At the end of the day, it is not my business. My only business is how to get out alive and his only purpose is to keep me from getting killed. We are nothing more than two strangers. And yet, I cannot help wondering what kind of life he is leading and what kind of past came creeping back at him.  
After a short drive we arrive to a calmer area of Gangnam filled with classy restaurants and businessmen heading for a bottle of soju with their bosses. Hanbin stops the car on the side road and orders me to get out. Once on the walkway, a slim guy with dark-brown hair revealing his forehead approaches us. He is dressed in a white shirt carelessly unbuttoned at the top and a black jacket matching his pants in fabric and color. “Park the car for me, hyung,” Hanbin throws his keys at the stranger who catches them skillfully giving him a friendly smile with an aura brighter than the sun itself.  
When the guy notices me still standing at the car’s door, he stops in his way and slightly bows to greet me. “I’m Seunghoon, but call me Hoony,” he says, “or oppa, if you prefer. Nice to meet you, pretty!”  
“Minah,” I reply cheerfully and kindly bow in return, then hear Hanbin’s impatient voice telling me to move already. I hurry after him down the sidewalk to the entrance of a Chinese restaurant.  
We step inside and Hanbin vaguely nods to the Chinese woman welcoming us, then heads straight to the corridor leading us away from the open dining area noise, where a guy dressed in a black smoking awaits us. The brown-haired man with a composed expression turns around inclining us to follow him, and I notice his broad shoulders and a muscular torso through the fabric of his clothes. “That’s Shownu, the boss’ servant,” Hanbin whispers in my ear. “He’s taking us to the private dining room.”  
We stop in front of a large door, brown in color and guarded by two golden Chinese dragons giving off an authoritative vibe. Shownu invites us to enter and the scene opens into a huge dining room, wrapped in a vast pallet of brown and beige color tones, with a large oval table situated right in the middle. A large and round droplight is hanging from the ceiling above the table, with its red material and strings adorned by golden coins. A beige sofa rests on the left of the room with a wooden coat hanger for company, while Chinese art covers the opposite side of the wall.  
Five people are sitting around the table, partially covering another piece of Chinese art representing a scenario of cherry blossoms. I recognize two of them as Mino and Jiwon, but one man seated between a pink-haired guy and a blue-head stranger stands out in particular. Higher than the others and dressed in a burgundy jacket made of silk, he moves his chair and slowly approaches us, revealing the length of his cloth almost touching his ankles with two serpent-alike figures adorning its edges.  
The guy observes me for a while, and I make an effort not to twitch and show a sign of nervousness. “Hyungwon,” he says, “my name is Chae Hyungwon, I’m the chairman.” He smiles at me.  
The way he wears himself makes me want to laugh, but I restrain myself from any such reaction. “Minah,” I say with a firm voice and as soon as the two syllables leave my mouth, Hyungwon reaches all the way back behind his valuable cloth and suddenly pulls out a gun, aiming it straight to my head. I can almost feel the coldness of the metal on my forehead, but I do not flinch at his gesture. I unnoticeably glance at Hanbin standing at my side and see he is completely calm. Judging from the way he acted last night, I deduce I am facing no real danger. As a result, my composed face leaks no sign of fear. I glance at the gun, a magnum probably, with a shiny, reddish wooden handler covered in some sort of design I cannot see. I notice Hyungwon did not bother to move the hammer, and I wonder if he is aware of my little observation that allows me to keep at ease.  
“Impressive,” Hyungwon distances his gun and puts it back in its former place, then turns his back at me and invites us to sit with them. “Very well then, let me introduce you to the Imoogi.”  
Hanbin sits down comfortably next to Mino, while Shownu helps me by slightly moving the chair placed at Hanbin’s side, then silently leaves the room. I glance at the marble table covered by a variety of Chinese dishes and whiskey bottles. “What was that just now?” I ask Hyungwon, sitting down carefully only to find out the boss is directly facing me across the table.  
His eyes widen for an unperceivable moment, revealing he must not be used to people speaking so carelessly to him, but recollects his expression in no time. “A little test from my side. I was curious.”  
“They say curiosity is what kills a man,” I answer and Hanbin unnoticeably throws me a warning look.  
Hyungwon laughs. “I didn’t expect anything less from Hanbin,” he says. “Well now, bon appetit.”  
As we start eating, chatter fills the room making the atmosphere seem more friendly. The food is as delicious as it looks, and I would only think of enjoying the meal if it was not for my gaze constantly jumping to the pink-haired guy. And as if it is not enough, his eyes keep on glancing back at me. I do not know how to feel about him and the harder I try to figure it out, the blanker my mind gets. Yet the sight of that pink head makes me feel somehow reassured and eventually, I manage to relax a bit, too.  
“I cannot guess what goes through your mind, Minah,” Hyungwon suddenly breaks through my silence. “I wonder what you’re thinking about,” he says.  
“Well, huijang-nim, that's because I don’t really have any thoughts right now,” I reply.  
He smirks. “Don’t lie, it’s existentially impossible to have no thoughts.”  
“Indeed,” I say, “but the mind generates thoughts twenty-four hours and most of them don’t matter, they exist because that’s just what the mind does. So if I was to pay attention to each of them, I would be living in my head and couldn’t possibly be aware of what’s going on around me. Let’s say I just let them pass through me but don’t bother to check them,” I explain.  
“You’re quite something. I wonder what the reason you didn’t flinch at my gun was, I saw no fear on your face,” he speaks his mind out loud.  
“And what’s your guess?” I ask.  
“It was not the first time you had a gun pointed at you,” he says. “But the way you think makes me want to reconsider myself.”  
“And you better do,” I smile. “And huijang-nim, I also can’t take a guess on what you’re thinking,” I continue, “but it seems to me you’re pretty confident in your thoughts. Still there was a saying my father used to tell me. To think means to not know.” I notice Hanbin stopped eating, gluing his eyes on my face with his eyebrows all narrowed as he was concerned about my big mouth.  
“Your father must be a wise man,” Hyungwon says keeping his composure and gulping down a shot of whiskey after chewing on one last bite of his food. “But enough chattering, let’s get to serious matters now. After all, I’m a busy man. I don’t have all that much time to waste.” He puts down his chopsticks and throws a look at Hanbin. “Let’s say I owe this guy here a favor, so I agreed on providing you with a personal guard,” Hyungwon tells me. “His name is Kihyun and it’s the guy right next to me,” he says, cheerfully patting the pink-haired guy on the shoulder. “You’ll need the best of the best after all. I don’t think Hanbin told you the opponent is of Japanese roots. They’re called Naraku, referring to the mythological hell. Ironic, if you think of it, since they’ll probably be the ones to end up there,” he laughs. “Anyway, they expanded to Korea with the goal of taking over the whole East Asia business.”  
“So, what’s their main business?” I ask, cutting in short. “And the main traffic goods?”  
Hyungwon rests his elbows on the dining table and folds his fingers observing my dead-face expression seemingly trying to figure out something, then relaxes and leans back on the chair. “Cocaine, LSD, meth, hashish, you name it and they most likely have it,” he says. “Gambling and loan sharks, too,” he continues, “human traffic, prostitution, anything you can imagine. They own the whole Yongsan-gu.”  
I nod as I was expecting an answer of this kind. “And what about you, huijang-nim? What do you own?” I ask further, testing the ground. “You didn’t tell much about your own business, or the Imoogi.”  
Hyungwon smirks and keeps quiet for a minute as he was expecting me to continue and see where this is going but it results in a growing tension at the table. “Aren’t you a bit too curious?” He points out.  
“Huijang-nim, I know all too well I’m dealing with gangsters,” I say, not intimidated by his dead-cold eyes, “so I suppose you’re not selling flower bouquets.”  
Hyungwon laughs, “you’ve been hanging around there quite a lot, you could’ve figured it out by yourself.”  
“Gangnam-gu,” I say. “You own the Korean market, while Naraku targets the foreign business.”  
“Sharp mind,” Hyungwon says, “and we shall get hands on Mapo-gu soon, too.” He pours himself a glass of Hennessy, then kindly fills my glass as well. “See, we like to take care of things quietly,” he smiles and raises his glass implying me to do the same. I swallow the alcohol in sync with his tempo and he seems pleased. It is not long before he continues, “I mentioned earlier we’re called Imoogi. I don’t know how familiar you are with Korean myths, but imoogi were serpent-alike creatures striving to become true yong, or dragons. As legend has it, those creatures were cursed to wait for a yeouiju, a wish-fulfilling stone, to fall from the heavens and by catching it, they became able to turn into true yong,” Hyungwon explains.  
“Hmm... but huijang-nim, what really is a yeouiju? In your interpretation,” I ask carefully.  
“Try losing your yeouiju and you’ll be damned to the cold darkness of the caves,” he laughs. “Now, why would one reveal the secret to their strength when it’s at the same time their weakness?”  
“True indeed, huijang-nim, but try to consider this. If you lose that strength, you also lose your weakness. Losing a weakness, from my point of view, is not that bad either,” I say, and the boss falls into thoughts.  
A sudden noise distracts Hyungwon as Shownu walks through the door and fast step approaches him, whispering something into his ear. “Well, everyone, looks like I have business to attend so I fear we must say goodbye. Shownu, would you please walk our guests out? Kihyun, you go, too,” Hyungwon orders leaving his seat, and as we bid farewell to each other, we head outside with the servant leading the way.  
Once on the sidewalk, Shownu makes a quick call and tells Hanbin his car will be here in a minute. I glance at Kihyun to see him nervously stepping on his feet and it makes my stomach tie in a knot. Shownu stands by my side as he had no trust in me, and as I turn my head to try and read his mind, a bad feeling hits me like a lighting as an unpredictable scene starts taking its shape right in front of our eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

I feel a cold drop of blood landing on my cheek and a sudden, slightly metallic smell fills my nose for a second. No reaction comes from my side as I watch Shownu fall to the ground with a choked scream. His body squirms and twitches a few times, then finally remains still as a statue. I do not get particularly moved by the scene. I must look inhumanly unfazed, I think to myself. At the end of the day, the anew dead body is no more that than of a stranger. Instead, I stare at the motionless corpse now laying on his back on the cold ground, with his eyes still semi-opened and blood dripping down all over his head. The left side of his face is slightly distorted exposing the flesh under the skin, yet the hole in his temple is almost too clear to the eye and it narrates the preciseness of the shooter.  
I look around with the attempt of finding the culprit, but I get distracted by someone’s hand on my shoulder. I turn around to meet Hanbin’s pale face asking me if I am okay.  
“I’m fine,” I say as he tries to wipe the blood off my face with his sleeve and check for possible injuries.  
He stares at me for a while and once he is sure I really am fine, he turns to Kihyun. “Hyung,” he says as they share a worried look, “you’re off duty today, go check with Hyungwon-nim.”  
Kihyun turns paler than the wall itself. “I’ll let you know,” he says and hurries to wherever his boss is.  
“They’ll take care of it, be careful on your way back,” Hanbin tells Jiwon and Mino to send them off, then grabs my arm impatiently and drags me fast pace to the car.  
“Were you close with Shownu?” I ask him as we take the road to my apartment.  
He bites his lip nervously. “No, I only knew him formally,” he replies.  
It appears obvious that he is reflecting on how it is related to him, why it was Shownu. But even if he knew, he would not share it with me. I review the incident in my mind, too. After all, riddles excite me.  
We soon arrive at my street. “Where can I park?” He asks as soon as I grab the door handle to get out.  
“In your fancy garage,” I say bitterly, ready to flee and get him off my back at least for a night.  
Hanbin smiles as soon as he notices my intention and steps down on the pedal causing my heart to skip a beat and my hand to lose grip. He makes a sudden U-turn in the small amount of space the street can offer and hits hard the breaks unexpectedly. Everything occurs so fast I do not even realize what happened until I take a glimpse out of the window to be faced with nothing more than a worn-off wall. “Fine,” he says, “I’ll put it here, perfect!” He gets out and shuts the door loudly as I realize the car is so close to the building, I cannot even open my side of the door.  
I glance back from my seat and see the vehicle is completely blocking the entrance. There are probably just enough centimeters of space left for a person to be able go past and enter the edifice. Good news is the building is not one of the biggest and most of my neighbors are students and employees who spend most of the time outside their flats. Bad news is, I cannot get out. I see Hanbin pointing to the driver’s side in the review mirror, finding his childish action entertaining.  
Leaving me no other choice, I sigh and climb over to the driver seat clumsily hitting my knee to finally open the door and get out. “It took you a while,” Hanbin laughs as I approach him, and we make way past the car to reach the entrance. “Go inside,” he says pushing me in and I start walking down the corridor carefully to soon reach the last flat on the right. I turn around to send him off, but his hand passes past me and before I can realize, his fingers already digited the password to unlock the door with a light sound.  
“How...” I start but at second thought, I am not even surprised anymore.  
Hanbin laughs, “don’t underestimate me.”  
“That’s invasion of privacy,” I object.  
“It’s for safety measures,” he says and nonchalantly pushes me in, then steps inside when I stop him.  
“Yunah...” I whisper to him.  
“She’s not here,” he lightly moves me aside and throws his shoes off, then enters the main room of our place, jumping on the cozy couch as it was his own.  
“How did you know?” I ask, still standing few steps away from him.  
“I have my sources,” he shakes my question off. “So, this is where you live, huh? With that slut... you’ll become one, too if you keep this on.” I do not know which part of his sentence I hate more but no matter how hard it is to admit, he is right. And this I hate even more. “I didn’t even kiss you but you’re dead silent, you’re killing all the fun.” He throws me an everything but nice look. And yet no matter how much I can despise a man like him, I rather have him stuck to me than being around Yunah.  
I sit down next to him. “I’m safe and sound now, why don’t you leave? You surely have better business.”  
“I have all the time in the world,” he says. “I’ll babysit you until Kihyun comes back.”  
“Great,” I murmur sarcastically and stand up to go take a shower.  
The hot water runs over me, and my mind suddenly replays the bloody scene inside my head, yet its focus is not on that guy’s body, but Hanbin’s worried face staring at me as he was not even bothered about what just happened for a second as long as I did not get hurt. And yet, something was knocking at my brain since the last day. Something is weird regarding both accidents.  
“Ya,” I call to Hanbin from the bathroom. “Don’t you think something is off?” I ask.  
“What do you mean?” He screams back from the main room.  
I dry myself and put on some comfortable clothes I pick from my room. I notice Hanbin’s red hoodie still laying lonely on my bed and for the sake of a little experiment, I decide to wear it, wondering if he will just tear it off me claiming it as his. “About the shootings,” I say as I approach him only to find he served himself dinner. “What the hell are you doing?” I raise my voice at the sight of the freshly cooked ramyun and an opened bottle of soju.  
“I was hungry,” he blurts with his mouth full of noodles and gazes at me. “And well, you’re wearing my clothes. I have all the rights to get comfortable.”  
I crash down on the couch next to him and grab the alcohol to take a big sip myself directly from the bottle. “At least share,” I sigh, suddenly feeling tired.  
“Open,” he says, and I stare in confusion until I see a bite of noodles hanging from the chopsticks coming my way. I gladly chew down on his offer. Seeing me eat, he smiles leaving me to confusion again. “So, you were saying?” He suddenly reminds me of my lost thread of thoughts.  
“Well,” I start, “don’t you think it’s weird? The way the shootings occurred.”  
“Hmm,” he says, passing me the soju after gulping a sip. “Indeed.”  
“It was a sniper shooting Shownu, meaning it must have been planned beforehand,” I continue.  
“How do you know?” He asks, more for the purpose of getting an insight of my thought process.  
“It took them one shot... and did you see the cleanness of the wound? It was fired from a distance with preciseness. But then somebody should have known the location, and yet Hyungwon didn’t seem to be worried about that. And why did they aim at Shownu? He has nothing to do with you, you only know him formally. Was he just unlucky? But then, a sniper would have a clear target. Or was the shooting related to Imoogi and not you? I don’t know, it could mean nothing, but something just feels off,” I conclude.  
“You got a point there,” he says, “but it could have been a warning, that nobody’s safe.”  
“Why would they risk entering another’s gang territory just to shoot down an unimportant pawn? It doesn’t make sense,” I disagree with his reasoning.  
“Hmm...” He eventually nods. “And what about Mino’s shooting? What do you think?”  
I recall the matter. “The shooter wasn’t aiming to kill Mino and only fired the gun when he was noticed, missing him intentionally. But he was clearly nervous, I got the impression he was hesitating.”  
“I see... Also the location was kind of weird, don’t you think?” He thinks out loud.  
“Yeah, there was no way of knowing someone of your crew will pass down that street,” I say. “After all, the fight didn’t happen there, right?”  
“No, we just rushed in the first alley to keep from everyone’s eyes,” he confirms.  
“So somebody must have followed us out and predicted where we were going,” I deduce. “Did Jinhwan pick you up from that spot before?”  
“Yeah, most don’t know there are no security cameras that way, if we ever need to get unnoticed,” he says. “It must be a clear message that they are a step ahead of us. But they couldn’t possibly be aware of your existence and predict I’d ask Mino to take you somewhere,” he reasons.  
“But they must have known something.” I lean back on the couch. “There’s more to it. The shooter wasn’t hesitating for no reason. His identity might be a clue...” I notice he is considering my words carefully.  
“Hmm... I’ll try to look into it,” Hanbin says and vanishes to bring a tube of Pringles and a can of Heiniken from the kitchen, and only then I notice the TV is turned on. A cliché drama is playing in the background and observing the situation from a point of view of an outsider makes me realize that if someone was to walk onto us now, they would probably think we must be in a relationship. And a part of me hated how comfortable we were with each other ever since I followed to his table.  
A sudden loud knock on the door distracts me from my inner world. “Who the fuck left a car in front of the entrance?” I hear a familiar voice screaming from the corridor.  
Hanbin throws me a look and my expression anticipates him what is coming next. I do not try to stop him when he opens the door to be put face to face with no one else than Junheo.  
Junheo is taken by surprise. “Hah, now you’re even bringing guys to your place?” He smirks.  
Hanbin sighs, incredulous he has to deal with him again. “Ya! Let’s make this easy and just get lost,” he says. “That’s my territory now. Remember? I don’t like dickheads to mess around my streets.”  
“You gaessaeki, do you think you’re some kind of a gangster or something?” Junheo makes his way past Hanbin to get in. “To be that confident. She’s gonna throw you away when she gets bored of you, anyway.”  
Junheo approaches me and a strong odor of alcohol reaches my nose. Hanbin stops him from getting any closer to me by placing himself in between us.  
“Do you care about him?” Hanbin asks me as the tension fills the air between them two.  
“What?” I do not understand the reason he would ask me something like that.  
“Do you care about him that much?!” Hanbin repeats, turning his head to me. “Hurry!”  
I hesitate for a moment but Hanbin’s eyes do not allow me to swallow the truth and lie. “No,” I blurt without considering the consequences of this simple word. “I don’t care.”  
“Good,” he smiles and without warning, his fist lands on Junheo’s face making him stumble backwards as fresh blood starts dripping from his nose. “Does this hurt?” He laughs as Junheo needs time to take in what just happened. “Guess you’re the one being thrown away.”  
“Michinssaeki,” Junheo says wiping the blood with his hand. “That’s between me and Minah, who the fuck do you think you are?” Junheo rushes at him with a fist but the drunkenness makes him miss big.  
“Sorry,” Hanbin smiles, “I guess I wasn’t clear enough.” With that, another punch flashes towards Junheo’s face. This time blood shows up on his inferior lip.  
Junheo stands still with his eyes wide open in disbelief, wiping the red liquid from his chin with a sleeve. “This is what I get back, Minah? For everything I’ve done for you?” He knows he cannot win the fist fight, so he gives it a try using words as a weapon. But to his disadvantage, Hanbin is not a person of mercy and I am not someone prone to feelings of mercy.  
I burst out laughing and I confuse Junheo with my sudden reaction, yet Hanbin seems to enjoy it. “This is getting old,” I say. “The only thing you ever did for me was pay me alcohol to have your sick ways with me. Get out of my face, Junheo and cut it out already. How could I give a shit about someone like you?”  
Junheo stares at me visibly hurt by my words but I do not care anymore. I want him to be gone.  
Hanbin grabs Junheo by the shoulder. “Get lost,” he orders and Junheo throws me a pitiful look I ignore. “And oh, stop putting your dirty hands where they don’t belong, or I’ll cut them off next time.” He throws him out of my flat and shuts the door in his face. “Problem solved.” He crashes back on the couch, shoving the Pringles in his mouth. “I’ll kill him next time,” he munches.  
“Thanks,” I murmur, jumping on the couch.  
He laughs. “That’s two times now, you’re getting in debt with me. I might need you to pay back one day.”  
“I never asked you for it,” I say rolling my eyes, and in that exact moment I find myself laying on my back with two icy eyes staring down at me. I try to hate this cruel, deep-brown gaze mining through the coldness of mine, but the pit of my stomach tells me a different story.  
“I’ll just take it from you then.” He smiles and leans closer. “It’ll be more fun,” he whispers in my ear.  
For a second there, I imagine him tearing off my clothes, leaving red marks all over my skin, biting my neck and getting inside me with his hand making me gasp for air. I impulsively try to push him off as a response to my momentary fantasizing but miserably fail. As he knew what I was thinking, he grabs my neck gently but steady, and leans down to barely touch my lips with his breathe, then suddenly gets up and vanishes in the bathroom with nothing more than a simple “I’m going to shower.”  
One day, he will drive me mad to the point of no return.


	9. Chapter 9

I wake up to the surroundings of my living room I do not recognize at once, then slowly slip back to reality when I recall last night. I pull myself up and check the phone to find one name covering the screen.  
_Hanbin: Something urgent came up_  
_Hanbin: DO.NOT.GO.OUT!_  
_Hanbin: I know you’ll disobey so I sent hyung to watch you_  
_Hanbin: See ya tomorrow_  
_Hanbin: Btw your friend’s home and you don’t need to worry about that shithead_  
He really thinks about everything and for some reason, it annoys the hell out of me. I get up and notice everything is in its right place so I guess Hanbin must have cleaned up before he left. I make myself a cup of coffee and review yesterday’s events in my head. The mafia boss, the pink-haired guy, the shooting; what kind of shit did Hanbin put me into? Hanbin. Hanbin. Fuck, I tactlessly punch the coffee table, I won’t let him get inside my head. As if it was not enough, I am also well aware I will soon have to face Yunah and suddenly wish Hanbin would have dragged me some place instead.  
“Unni, why were you sleeping on the couch?” I soon hear a sleepy voice behind me. I tell Yunah I must have been tired, and she asks me what I have been up to for the past two days. I lie about meeting an old friend, and thought she doubts my words she lets it pass and propones hanging out at our usual place tonight, probably feeling guilty about last time. My brain starts searching for an excuse, but I end up with none as there is a little part of me wanting to go along with her idea, all because of a twisted reason of my own. I want Yunah to hurt me with her behavior to the point when I will be finally able to escape her, when only resentment will be left, and nothing will ever be able to make me turn back. In the end, after a short but heated tug of war inside my head, that small part wins and I let her have it her way.  
I send Hanbin a text telling him I am going out, but I get no reply and deduce he must be kept busy. Soon, the evening falls and as I am almost done with the make-up, my phone’s screen lights up.  
_0XX-XXXX-XXXX: Jagi-ya, come out~_  
I stare at the text and my mind stops working for a moment. When it regains its functions again, I try to understand my current position. There is no way of knowing if it is dangerous and whether it is a trap or not, but only one person has ever called me jagi. My gut feeling tells me to go and I decide on a whim to trust it. Hanbin would have locked me up in a cellar if he knew how thoughtlessly I can act sometimes.  
I tell Yunah I am going to the convenience store to buy me a soda and head out without giving her the time to respond. The night is already falling, and I start thinking of where I am expected to go next when a hand suddenly covers my mouth, making my heart jump in fear. A strong hold grabs me from behind and tactlessly drags me in the nearest dead-end street. As soon as we are out of sight, the grip loosens and finally lets go of me. I find myself catching for air when the stranger speaks for the first time.  
“I hope I taught you a lesson.” I hear a soft voice and turn around to meet a face hidden by a black baseball hat. “Long time no see,” he greets, and I do not need to see his features to know who he is.  
“Outlaws always stay outlaws,” I say, laughing.  
“Well, we meet again in such a place after all,” he smiles.  
“So much about happy reencounters,” I titter.  
“But at least it is one, I thought I’d never get to see your pretty face again,” he says. “Not even a hug?”  
I think for a moment, almost incredulous of the joke fate decided to play on me. “But oppa... you left me all alone,” I start, with a slight taste of regret in my mouth rather than resentment.  
He hides his eyes under the hat, covering his face that suddenly turned gloomy. “I...”  
“I don’t hate you,” I interrupt whatever he was trying to say, causing his gaze to raise up. “Actually I did hate you for a long time ‘cause I couldn’t believe you’d abandon me just like that. But,” I continue, “I had a lot of time to think it through and try to understand. Also, I never really stopped missing you,” I say as I surprise him with an insecure hug and dare to feel the familiarity of his arms.  
He holds onto me. “Hearing something like that from you...” He laughs softly, visibly relieved. “I’m surprised though, that you welcomed me just like that. I really thought you wouldn’t forgive me.”  
“I’m sure you had your reason,” I say, distancing myself and catching a glimpse of a strain of his hair. The fact that he still wears them the same makes me somehow happy. “I liked to think it was for our best.”  
“I had to lay low,” he explains. “We played a dangerous game, you should know better than anyone it ain’t a pretty world. The fact we know each other must stay a secret. Also, don’t trust anyone,” he says as his voice draws in, “except Hanbin. I’ll keep an eye on you so don’t worry, jagi.” He pats my head and kisses my forehead as we say goodbye for tonight, and I hurry back inside to finish dressing up.  
Yunah is already done and soon we head to the subway. Standing in the smelly air without a single centimeter of private space, surrounded by people staring at their phone screens and ajumma silently judging foreigners avoiding eye contact, I realize how alone I really am. Those situations sometimes make a person wish they were invisible, but I never felt a need for such a desire as I, in fact, already knew I was nonexistent to the eyes of these people. We get off at Gangnam station and reach the flashy street I know too well. The place is full of young spoiled kids already struggling to maintain their balance while being unnecessary loud and utterly worried about staining their brand-new white shoes in the dirty puddles.  
We soon arrive at the same old pocha bar and wait for the familiar waiter to lead us to our table, then order some fried chicken with fries and two bottles of soju to begin with. With the help of alcohol, we start to get in the right mood for a night out, but still I cannot relax. With every shot of soju, my brain gets more and more caught up in this whole relationship issue to the point where I start to picture every possible scenario about what could go wrong tonight.  
I still try to casually communicate with Yunah and throw in some half-fake laughter to make myself more believable after she asked a few times if I am okay. Just when I start thinking I might be able to handle the situation, a heavy hand lands on my shoulder and I do not dare to look behind me. It is written on Yunah’s face that she is already drunk, and her expression shows no surprise at the newly arrived guest. The hand soon disappears off my back and the presence moves to the other side of the table. Our mood spoils as soon as Junheo sits down with us, showing clear marks from Hanbin’s fist on his face. A swollen lip and blue shades around his eye make me worry that he might tell Yunah about yesterday, and the last thing I want is her to know. As I imagined, she asks him what happened, causing an insecure look coming my way. He then thinks for a moment, and to my surprise makes up the excuse of getting involved in a fist fight with some dickheads on his way home. Hanbin indeed took care of it with the help of God knows what methods, but the thought of it reassures me. Hanbin must stay a secret.  
Junheo starts gulping down shots of soju ordering a few more bottles as I stare far in the distance spacing out every now and then. It seems like the two of them do not need me as long as their glasses are filled with alcohol. Soon after I catch sight of a familiar face in the crowd and avert my eyes just a second too late before Yunhyeon notices me and approaches our table asking if he can join us. Yunah agrees a bit too excitedly and the solemn moment he sits down next to me is all it takes to make me feel as I am in the most wrong place I could possibly be with the most wrong people I could possibly know. I do not belong here; that is a fact. I never belonged with these individuals and I never belonged in their drama, yet I am here, unable to tell them all to fuck off because I am scared to death to be left all alone once again.  
Yunhyeon puts his arm around my shoulders and I smile pretending it does not bother me. Yunah notices something must be off with me when I keep sticking to him a little too apparently, while on the other hand completely ignoring her. I start noticing in the way she leans over the table and the way she speaks to him that she has set a new target for herself, and who else could be better than a guy her best friend got a thing going on with. Junheo quickly comes to the same conclusion and it is plain to see he is visibly hurt and ready to take an emotional fall again. I feel a pinch of pity seeing him saddened and upset but forget about it when I see Yunah evidently losing confidence due to my uninterest in her.  
Soon after I decide to leave her chances open and excuse myself to the bathroom, but instead head to the entrance and sit on the waiting bench, wishing for a bottle of Hennessy rather than the shitty taste of soju. I dwell in my emptiness for a little while and the waiter leaves me be as he knows my face all too well by now. My eyes soon meet Yunah hanging onto Yunhyeon like a leech while following him to the smoking room, and I cannot help but laugh. It is the exact same scene I was expecting to see, and I know it is just the beginning of the fun I am letting her have so easily. But her kind of fun means nothing to me; the guys, the alcohol, the one-night stands, the shit a blacken-out mind does. I got more than tired.  
I touch the ring on my finger, a silver thin line melting into an infinity sign. Me and Yunah used to joke we were married and in that honor, we got ourselves a couple ring. It was long ago and now is the time to let go of it. I stand up and walk the few stairs separating me from the outside and inhale the cold filthy air as I step on the street, then take the ring off my finger. A ring promising forever. A ring of loyalty.  
“Can you be loyal or are you just like your mother?” The question flies through my mind, reminding me of the moment something switched in my brain and as a response to that venomous remark, the word loyalty was erased from my head. Nobody is loyal, my mother to begin with, why should I be? I could choose to be free. I came back with a hickey, smelling like somebody else’s cologne. I lied, unemotionally, and there was no turning back from what I have already become and what I was yet to become.  
I told myself I was cheated on first anyway, and to make it worse, it was Yunah the one who led him on. She lied to my face, saying she is seeing her unni that day, but spent her time fucking Seungyoon instead. She never told me the truth; it was him who eventually confessed a few days later as the guilt of being discovered started to eat him up. He apologized. He told me he did not care about her and what he did was a mistake, thought I saw his texts still coming to Yunah’s phone. But she did not need him anymore. She only wanted him because he was mine and once she ruined it, she lost interest. Soon after, Seungyoon tried to get me back and that was okay. I was not angry, and I did not resent him. After all, everyone is replaceable; so was I and so was he. Furthermore, there was a twist in my reason to date him that no one knew; I wanted to know what was like to be normal. I wanted to feel something, to be as everyone else was but to my disappointment, it was dead boring. Everything was empty and flat as it has always been. I never loved him; I could have not been possibly hurt by him. It was me who was using him, too.  
Who hurt me was Yunah; how she pretended with a smile, saying she would never do such a thing and the way she, without a second thought, betrayed the last pinch of my trust. She backstabbed me so deliberately and yet somehow still believes everything is fixed between us now; how silly can one be?  
No one can truly be trusted. Everyone acts in accordance with their own ego to achieve their one-sided benefit and satisfy the distortion of their own minds. Selfishness. Apathy. Hatred. Independence. With that, my transformation was reaching its end and I was getting close to the void that would set me free.  
I raise my hand and throw the ring as far as I can into the street and as it gets swallowed by hundreds of feet moving, everything I was holding onto starts to disappear right in front of my eyes. I walk back inside to our table and find Junheo alone gulping down soju shots one after another. I sit next to him pouring myself a glass as he points his head in the direction of the smoking room. I follow his gaze to see Yunah and Yunhyeon moved places and she is clumsily trying to get a kiss, yet for some reason he smoothly ignores it. I burst out laughing as a reaction to what I already knew and Junheo somehow does not look surprised either. Hurt, I wonder, when will it completely cease to exist? It is ignorable, lenient and almost transparent. I cannot grasp it anymore, but its presence still weights down on my chest.  
I think about a way out as my mood is starting to go down-spiral again. One option I have is to find Kihyun and ask him for a ride home but on second thought, our flat is the last place I want to go right now, or any other time around. Hanging with a random group of drunk boys to early morning would not be one of the best decisions in the given situation as Kihyun in fact, is aware of my every move and ready to report back to Hanbin. Hanbin. I should text Hanbin to pick me up. The slight drunkenness makes it seem like a good idea and my fingers do not fear or feel too proud to press the send button.  
_Minah: Come get me__  
_Hanbin: Ask Kihyun__  
_Minah: But I am asking you_  
_Minah: Just come, I need a place to sleep_  
_Hanbin: And with that it’s 3, I’m counting... 20mins, I won’t wait_  
That was too easy, I think, but I am glad to be gone soon when Junheo stops me. “Wanna walk me home?”  
“You’re rich, you can afford a taxi,” I say, but almost regret it when I meet his gloomy eyes. “You should go, too Junheo.” I throw him a compassionate look before I leave the pocha bar for good.  
A familiar black car stops in front of me and as soon as I crash down on the passenger seat, Hanbin’s annoying tone greets me. “Tomorrow is the day of your first payment,” he says, and somehow even Junheo looks like he could have been a better choice.


	10. Dead Draw: Part 1

It was evening and night has already fallen as we were driving down the deserted road in his black Cadillac with only one goal in mind for tonight. Success.   
A half empty bottle of Hennessy was resting on my lap and Skid Row’s 18 and Life was playing loud on the radio. His hand was resting on my bare knee and his fingers were playing with my skin. His light squeeze made me feel calm and secure regardless of what we were about to do.  
His hands were slowly turning cold and a flashback suddenly replayed in my mind. I remembered how strictly I had been told many times before not to peek and turn away, but on that occasion the door had been left slightly open as if the handle did not do its job properly. If it has been a bad decision or not, that I could not tell, but what my eyes had seen was the figure of a man who in that very moment seemed no longer a human. His eyes were deadly cold and his hands merciless like a rope hanging around one’s neck. And yet, I did not care what I have witnessed if I knew the last part of his humanity was mine.  
I took his hand in my mine and entangled our fingers. I felt dozens of strangers’ lives drowning in his pulse, dozens of different blood mixing into one. I wondered if he was able to perceive dozens of dirty touches in my palms and my wish to erase them. Even if he did, he did not care; my most gentle and burning touches only belonged to him. And yet I wondered if he, too, felt that same obsessive need to wash them clean until blood would start to drip.  
His eyes were hidden by the shadows of the darkness surrounding us, and I took off his black baseball cap he loved so much to reveal the mess of his hair. The only warm part of his body left were his deep brown eyes and the only trace of heavenly still living inside him was his smile. I could not understand how such a man was capable of love, but he was. And his love was better than any other man’s love.   
He stopped the car near Han river for a short period of time just so that he could kiss me in sign of good luck. His lips tasted like heaven, but he was a devil in disguise. His cold hand slipped across my cheek and moved to adjust my hair away from my neck. I wondered how many lives those hands have taken, but it was none of my concern. Those hands were bringing life to me and it was all that mattered 


	11. Chapter 11

“So what happened?” Hanbin asks me as I sit at his bar waiting for him to pour me a glass of whiskey.  
“Nothing,” I say, too tired of putting my mind through the same story for the hundredth time. Yet due to the drunkenness, I cannot help but slip in a haze where I discover how many things have piled up as I kept leaving things unsaid, lacking courage to put an end to me and Yunah.  
“I didn’t come for you to get an answer like that,” he says, and I pretend not to catch his words. “Hmm,” I hear his voice vaguely as the whiskey burns my throat just how I like it. “Not that Kihyun didn’t tell me what he saw, but I thought it’d be more fun to hear it from you,” he says. “The whole story, you know.”  
I keep gulping down one glass after another until my head starts spinning and Hanbin decides for me I have had enough for tonight. “I’m not here to entertain you,” I say coldly as he removes my glass.  
“Well, then leave. I have better things to do than babysit a drunk girl,” he frowns and stretches out his arms. “Go,” he repeats and grabs me by the wrist dragging me to the door.  
“No,” I resist as he tries to throw me out in the corridor, but my body under the influence of alcohol is not much of a use to try and fight him. He shuts the door in my face, and for some reason I recall all the doors I closed onto people to never open them again. “Let me in,” I shout as I knock loudly. I hear a no coming from the other side and I would have turned around to leave if I was not drunk, but right now I do not care if he thinks I am annoying or if he teaches me another lesson. I keep on bumping on the door until it eventually opens, slowly and not completely, but I feel somehow victorious.  
Hanbin’s cold eyes stare back at me. His lips shape the word “leave,” and as he is about to shut the door in my face again, I realize how desperate I really am. I do not have a place to go; my one home has become unbearable. I cannot stand to be by myself; that dark corner of my mind never gets smaller and it would make me hungry for a way to wreck myself out of it again. I do not want to discover what my next remedy would be, for the sake of Hanbin protecting what I never learned how to value - my life.  
Thus, my lips lend on his abruptly and his surprise lets me push myself inside his apartment without breaking the kiss. His strong, cold hand is persistently leaving red marks on my wrist, almost cracking my bone, as he tries to stop me all the while. I ignore the painful, tingling sensation, and tell myself I had no other choice but the drunkenness shadows all my pride as the flavor of his mouth makes me somehow wanting it. He must taste despair on my tongue, and it must be also the reason for him to slowly loosen the grip and breathe onto my lips. I distance myself and see him staring at my now aching red wrist for a moment or two, then turns his eyes away as he was disturbed by his own action.  
“Sleep here," he says in the end, and I am left incredulous of the effect my action had on him. Yet, I somehow feel guilty seeing the sudden sadness in his eyes that I cannot understand. I stop him on his way to the bedroom, "I don't wanna go home and I don't wanna end up wandering the street alone. I couldn't handle myself," I spill out.  
He raises his eyebrow, "are you gonna let me have it so easily?"  
"I'm just being selfish. I'm bearing your stupid burden ‘cause you're a piece of shit, so you can at least do the same for me since I'm no better than you either."  
"You're too honest when you're drunk," he laughs and sits us both down on the couch as I start talking.  
I tell him about what happened between me and Yunah those months ago and many times before. I tell him about her obsessive and unstable behavior, how tired I am of her and how my home has turned into a place I hate. “I thought I had a chance,” I say, “about leading a normal life. But I can’t escape who I really am.” My latest words cause him to look up and I feel he sensed there is a much darker secret hiding within me. And indeed there are holes in my soul that have only just started to surface.  
"I didn't want to be like those people," he suddenly says after listening to my confession, "but I can't escape the blood that runs through my veins. And it's too late to turn back, it's too late to undo my actions and erase everything my eyes have seen. The distortion inside me can't be straighten out anymore." His gaze changes back to the cold one I am used to, and all the sadness melts away. I recognize his expression as the same one I meet every time I look in the mirror. “It’s who I am.”  
I do not empathize with other people; their problems are theirs to keep. I have nothing to do with their pain but denying Hanbin would be the same as denying myself. I do not know exactly what he is talking about but looking back at the shadows of my own past, I can only agree and apply his confession to myself, too. We are both too far gone, and we both know we will keep walking down this path no matter what. “It’s who we are,” I correct him, and he raises his eyebrow until he catches something that he should not have. He can perceive my thoughts and though he cannot fully grasp them, their emanation silently comforts him that he is not the only one. We do not know each other stories in detail but we are both aware of the pain we swallowed and endured until it turned into emptiness, apathy, coldness, fearlessness, selfishness. We were both fully aware of the ugly truth. We were never meant to be good people.  
I smile at him and he knows the invisible tread binding us together just got a bit tighter and a little stronger. “Sorry for that,” he says and points at my wrist shining in red with bruises starting to form on a slightly swollen area.  
I laugh, “that’s nothing, Hanbin.” And it really is not. I would not have even noticed if he did not bring me an ice pack from the freezer to calm the soreness. “It’s no more than a little scratch, Hanbin-ah.”  
He looks at me with a hint of suspiciousness but as soon as he evaluates my response is genuine, he decides it is time to leave for his bedroom. “I still have something to do, don’t feel bothered and get some sleep. Don’t forget your first payment is due tomorrow. Goodnight.” I hear him locking the door to be left alone on the much more familiar couch than I would dare to admit.  
Laying in the dark makes me realize how caught up I was in this whole Yunah’s situation that I completely forgot about the weird encounter I had earlier today. I cannot help wondering what it means to me and what could possibly change for me, but I am also unable to overlook the fact there was something different in the air between us that I could not fully grasp. Perhaps too much time has passed, and while I changed beyond my own expectations, he was still the same person from my memories...  
_A black trash bag and a trail of blood. Iron smell accompanied by footsteps. I look behind me and see him smiling. I look down at me. Blood is dripping on the floor from my cold, bloody hands. A voice calls me._  
“Minah?” A familiar voice calls my name and I open my eyes disoriented. “You were sleep-talking,” the voice says, and I meet Hanbin’s face staring down at me.  
I quickly come back to my senses. “I had a bad dream,” I say.  
He nods then leaves for the kitchen starting to make coffee. I observe him for a while and notice the nervous movements of his fingers as they were anxious to grab onto something, anything. He walks up and down from the counter to the cupboard in silence and does not dedicate me a single look or word all the while. There is something going on with Hanbin today and I wonder if I should be worried.  
“Did something happen?” I ask hesitantly.  
Hanbin stares at me blankly for a few moments as he was unable to move, then reaches in the drawer under the counter and pulls out an A4 light-brown envelope. “Here,” he says and approaches me to throw it in front of me. I lift my eyebrow in wonder what he is up to and carefully open the envelope to remove the documents inside and examine them.  
“What’s this?” I ask, visibly upset as I quickly look through the papers. Name: Lee Minah. Date of birth: 1996 May 13th. Hometown: Daegu. “What is this?” I repeat my question incredulous of what I am holding in my hands. I search impatiently through the text if there was anything that could put me in trouble, but I do not notice any questionable matters. Still it seems Hanbin knows something I am yet unaware of.  
“A background check,” he says calmly while pouring himself freshly made coffee.  
I stare at him in confusion trying to figure out the motive of his research. I think back and quickly dig through my memories but do not come up with anything suspicious I could have possibly done. “Why in the world would you do a background check on me?”  
“Why not?” He raises his shoulder and leans on the bar counter. “I’m a curious man.”  
His attitude starts to annoy the hell out of me. “Was that necessary? You could’ve just asked.”  
“Background checks are the easiest way to find anomalies,” he says as he scans me with his eyes, and I get a feeling he is seeking for a sign that would give me away.  
I start laughing and throw his stupid background check back at him, then lay back on the couch and cross my arms on the chest. “And?” I decide to play along.  
“There’s a lot of data...” he starts, “your father was a loan shark and tightly involved with the criminal organization, so you used to move houses every few months and your mother eventually left. She never got in touch with you or your father again, and you had no choice but to stay with your father who was too caught up in his underground business and did nothing for you except giving you money. You left home when you were sixteen, moved to Seoul on your own to finish high school, your IQ was higher than average, but you never pursued university seriously,” he quickly overviews what he learned about me, “you’ve been to hospitals for injuries quite a lot at that time, then you were to turn eighteen and suddenly a gap in the folder appears... it’s like you vanished from the face of earth,” he finishes and looks at me. “Why is there no data for that period of your life? It starts back when you turned twenty, and you suddenly started a course at university and moved into your current apartment with Yunah.”  
“Pretty accurate,” I laugh it off, but neither I did expect such a hole in my folder. I wonder how to talk myself out of it without raising any unnecessary suspicions. In fact, not even I am sure why the files are missing, but I can try to take a guess. “How am I supposed to know why there is no data?” I say in control of my expression and voice tone. “I probably wasted two years of my life drinking and fucking myself up, doing absolutely nothing.”  
“But the place where you were staying was sold at that time, I checked. And there’s no registered address under your name. Did you live on the street? I’m sure not,” he continues, but I have my words ready.  
“I was switching between my friends’ houses for quite a while, you know that finding a cheap flat out of the blue is not easy in Seoul,” I say. “Maybe you should hire someone who is better at their job.”  
He looks at me suspiciously and pulls out another piece of paper holding it out to me. “These are your bank account records. Someone’s been depositing anonymously a fair amount of money on your account every month since the data starts coming back in. No wonder you can live well,” he says. “We couldn’t track that person down. Fake bank account, fake ID, never caught on camera... my guess is... a pro.”  
“Have you considered it could be my father? He might be an asshole but with all that money, I think he can afford to give me a little help,” I say, “maybe to suppress his feelings of guilt for being a piece of shit who never in his life even cared to ask his only daughter how she was doing.”  
Clearly surprised about my sudden little outburst, he speaks carefully, “you’re father’s in prison.” He crosses his arms on his chest as I raise my eyebrows.  
He catches me by surprise for a mere second, but it is not enough to leave me at loss for words. “Don’t you think he has enough people in his wide net to find one guy who’d be ready to do him a favor? Don’t act like the police can actually take out such a big and fully organized criminal network overnight.”  
He looks at me carefully examining my facial lines in search for something that could reveal me suspicious, but with me being in complete control of myself, he quickly relaxes unable to say anything more. “You got a point,” he thinks out loud, “in fact, the criminal organization is still going strong. Even if the prosecution removes a man, another one is ready to take their place.” Hanbin expression changes for an inch, almost looking apologetic. “I just wanted to make sure. I can’t really trust anyone at this point.”  
“Well, doubting can only be right in this situation,” I agree.  
“I’ll keep observing you, though. I don’t trust you completely yet,” he says and throws me a cold look.  
“Makes sense,” I shake my head and sigh.  
“Are you angry?” He asks me.  
“No, at the end of the day I don’t trust you completely either,” I answer, not sure if I really mean it.  
“That’s only fair,” he nods. “Anyway... I got some business to take care of, so I’ll drive you home,” he announces and grabs his car keys, “also... we’re going to a party tonight. Dress nice.”  
“We? You mean you,” I reply a bit surprised, but for some odd reason, I do not hate the idea as much as I would expect to. After all, I really am the strangest kind. I am that sort of person who if offered a cookie will refuse it for the only reason of being given a choice and when something does not really matter, no is an easier answer than yes. And yet if they will leave the cookie on my desk, I will have to eat it as they made the decision for me. Hanbin decides for me. He leaves me with no choice. He forces his word on me and though I do oppose him for the solemn reason I feel the need to upstand to someone else’s power over me, I know I will end up following him on my own will. And he knows it as well.  
Hanbin gives me a little smile, “I’ll pick you up at eight.”__

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End file.
